All of my pets have done so much for me (all 5) but last year i was going through a major depressive episode. Nothing was bringing me out of it. I was having very dark thoughts. I got a call one day from my parents and it was my mom on the phone and she sounded worried. she said that her and my father were in the back yard and heard this faint screaming, so they went in that general location. There was a tiny black kitten underneath a pile of logs behind their shed. I work at a vet clinic on the weekends so i rushed over to their house and grabbed the kitten and went to the clinic. ( the mother was lying dead near the kitten) the clinic told me i wouldn't be able to save the kitten and that I could try but he was only a week old and was out in the sun for a very long time without any nutrients. I said I'll take care of it and he's going to be okay. I bottle fed him every 4 hours, and taught him to use the bathroom. I wasn't giving up and wasn't going to let him. He made it through. He's my little baby. he's a Maine Coon mix and brought what i needed back into my life at that time.