Tucker made it through the night just fine. I was up late and fed him before I went to bed, then arose at 6:30 and offered some kitten milk, which he eagerly lapped from a make-shift saucer. It's now 9:30am and I just finished feeding him some canned food and more kitten milk I'd warmed for him. He was purring as I washed him after his breakfast and he playfully batted at the ribbons on my nightgown. He's been through so much at such a young age, but still feels like playing. That's amazing.
I'm optomistic that he'll thrive, but I'm also a little bit cautious. I've been there, done this many times before, and kittens who seem fine and healthy one day can go into a downward spiral within hours. So I'm taking one day and one hour at a time. For now, I'm content that he seems to be doing well and no longer seems frightened. We're going to have to work on his litter box habits, but that's not a big obstacle. Apparently he didn't have his mama around long enough to show him how it's done. We'll work on that as we go along.