Those two little rascals were orphaned, before they were even weaned, when their mother was hit by a car. Someone brought them to the house in a box, and I played "Mommy" to them for about six months. Feedings were every four hours, sharp, day and night, and there was no way they'd let me be even a few minutes late with it. Buddy still needed to be bottle-fed, but Baby was already stong enough to lap bread-pieces, soaked in milk, out of a plate. They would follow me around the house, chattering, or latch on to me, one one each leg, and hitch a ride like that. During the daytime they slept, hidden under the big pillows on our couch. When they were old enough to fend for themselves, we turned them loose in a beautiful, remote hollow.