So here's the story. I'm laying in bed at the crack of 1pm when I hear a noise outside my room. I figure one of our cats is just being annoying, as usual. After a few seconds, I ask out loud (my dad's right outside my room and we have these holes in the wall for ventilation, I guess), "do I hear a kitten?"
"I went outside and the dogs were out (we have two adult German Shepherds). They were just sitting there, looking guilty, I have no idea how they got out, so I put them back and I heard a sound. It sounded like a buzzard. It was this little guy," he said, as I walked out of my room to see the little gray ball of fuzz in his hands. He didn't see any other cats around, so, if there were any, he was the only survivor.

He was scared to death of everything that first day, constantly crying for help, but after just a single day, he's warmed up and even the other two cats are starting to like him. They sleep together, play a little, ya know, cat stuff.

Dad: "Why does this always happen when we're down to two cats?!"