Minnie was a great pal to Winston all night, sitting next to him and above him. What a loving creature this feral kitten turned out to be. She normally flees at the siight of Rose
(who definitely does not make friends with members of other species) but would not leave Winston’s side, even when Rose came into the barn.
  So I’m putting up a photo of Winston, who is alive, but in rough shape, and the reason I’m putting up the photo is that I believe in being open within reason, and the story of life with animals is not all about cuteness and affection, and it’s important to be honest about that. As I like to say, and say, and say, what makes a perfect life is the fact that it can never be perfect. Animals have a dark and vulnerable side, and while they coexist well, they can turn on each other quickly sometimes.
  The photo is by no means horrible, and I would not put up a photo I thought was gruesome, and it just shows Winston’s head and shoulders, with some blood and wounds. But I didn’t want to just throw it up there without some warning to those who might be bothered by it. Don’t know if Winston will recover or not. He seems just barely conscious.