Today, just to make sure he's healthy enough to be around other cats, I took the lost kitten to the vet. While there, we checked for a microchip since all the shelters and foster homes are using those on their kitties now. No luck. During the initial workup, the tech confirmed that it's a little boy, and very little too: 4.88 pounds.
(Mr. Ken's been calling him Clyde - not that he's getting attached to the little fella or anything.)
Then the vet came in, and No Name Kitten (which is his official name of record at my vet) did the magic act for her and mooshed faces with the vet and was generally quite charming. He let the vet check his little teeth, which aren't that little apparently, because he has a full set of adult teeth! That puts his age at between 6 and 8 months.
(OK, so he's a little older than we thought, just very small.)
The vet looked, and looked again, and looked from a different angle, and gave me the other news: he's a girl.
Now Mr. Ken is calling her Clawdette.
(I'm still looking for her person - we're pretty sure she was dumped - or I'll be placing her with Furry Friends Rescue because I really don't want or need another cat.)