The Day of Ralph George

This morning, as I was walking from the kitchen to the bedroom, I noticed the two almost-adult kittens underneath the hutch. Or rather, Summer was underneath and Nathan was trying to push her out. It was morning, I was grumpy so I told them to stop being jerks and play nice with their squeaky toy.
Which of course turned out to not be a squeaky toy.
As I moved the hutch to drag Summer away, I noticed her toy was scurrying away.
Crap.
What the hell is a mouse doing in a house full of cats? Besides the obvious answer of: getting eaten.
I managed to put a flowerpot over the mouse, and brought it to safety, outside. I expected it to steadily run a mile away, but instead it just sat and wandered around in circles a bit.
Crap.
At this point I was in my bathrobe, at the back of the garden, on my knees in the mud. I picked up the mouse and looked at it.
Its eyes were closed (see photo for evidence).
A baby mouse.
Well, I had to get to work eventually and I was panicking rather hard at the thought of a baby mouse in my care and nobody I knew had any clue what to do - so I put it in a box with water and oats and a blueberry and hoped that, even with its eyes close, it would be old enough to eat independently.
At work I researched 'baby mouse care' and it was obvious I was not equipped. I found a small mammal/ wildlife rescue in a neighbouring town and left messages there. I also told my coworkers I wouldn't name him, because I knew if I did, I would be so much more upset if he didn't make it.

When I came home Ralph George wasn't doing well. The rescue woman had not called me back. I tried to feed him with a syringe - oatmeal flavored water. I was crying. I found myself wandering around the house with him in my hand, profusely apologizing for being useless at caring for baby mice, and telling him it was going to be okay. It would all be okay. 

And then, as I was holding him, he opened his tiny mouth in what looked like a yawn, and then he died.

And I realize that most people would have let the cats eat him, or would have put him outside without a thought.. It's "nature" and all that crap - but that's not me. 
I can't not care. 
And sometimes that effin' sucks.