Operation Cletus
~*~
Well, I had a post ready about last week’s animal rescue, but instead it will be done in memoriam of a little one who didn’t make it.
The kitten passed away between feedings during the night. I think it was a case of the spirit being willing but its body couldn’t do it. It had been doing really well for the past week but I noticed a little labored breathing last night, indicating its lungs may not have been fully developed.
I know mother cats will sometimes abandon their young when there’s something wrong with them; it’s survival of the fittest in the animal kingdom. I suspected the mother cat had been too young and might not have known what to do when she gave birth. She had left the kittens in their sacs and I assume the rest of the litter suffocated. The one that lived looked like the runt in a premature litter, but it had clawed open the sac from the inside and had freed its face to breathe. It was crawling using its front two legs, dragging the rest of its body still in the sac as well as the attached placenta. Um yeah, it was a pitiful sight. And yes, I scooped it out of the pile of dead kittens and placentas to do what I could for the poor thing. It would have been unconscionable on my part not to try. So, while my conscious is clear, my heart is sad as I say farewell to a tiny little creature who tried its best to survive.
My family had called this Operation Cletus (because it rhymed with fetus *glares*). The kitten stayed under a light bulb for the most part but when my son saw me carrying the kitten wrapped in a washcloth and tucked in the crook of my arm, he started calling us Paris and Tinkerbell. Yeah, my family is merciless when it comes to name calling. Given how tiny the kitten was, Tinkerbell is the name by which this little one will be remembered.
The kitty asleep after taking a full! eyedropper of formula :)
Warning: some of the pics under the next cut may be considered a little pitiful. Nothing graphic, just a scrawny kitten.
Operation Cletus begins
Three cleanings later and on the move
Hungry baby (it sort of looks like a baboon face here)
Here’s to show its size in relation to my car keys and the
smallest kitten bottle available which was still too big for it.
At first, it couldn't latch/suck so I let it lick
the formula from between my thumb and forefinger.
I may never be able to put salt there again though. :/
A few days later, it was drinking formula from an eyedropper.
Whiskers on kittens, glistening with milk - it's right up there with puppy breath. Awww! :)
Day 5 - Weighing in at 1.5 ounces (of course, that was right after taking .5 oz. of formula :P)
And Tinkerbell was its Name-O
At least, it got to go to the beach on its last day. All right, I just held it up in front of a painting but it liked hearing how sunshine would feel like its heat lamp.
It may sound hardhearted to be so accepting of this loss but it’s necessary to accept the failures with the successes in animal rescue situations. If you can’t balance a kind heart with a pragmatic approach, you can’t keep doing it for long. Life itself is a balancing act of good/bad, win/lose, and live/die. Did I delay the inevitable? Obviously, yes. Would I do it again? Yes. It was the right thing to do. You can’t save the world, but you can do your best by every living thing you encounter. Why? Because, it’s what Jesus would freaking do! :P Not to mention, karma’s a bitch.
R.I.P. Tinkerbell, I’m a better person for having known you.
Well, I had a post ready about last week’s animal rescue, but instead it will be done in memoriam of a little one who didn’t make it.
The kitten passed away between feedings during the night. I think it was a case of the spirit being willing but its body couldn’t do it. It had been doing really well for the past week but I noticed a little labored breathing last night, indicating its lungs may not have been fully developed.
I know mother cats will sometimes abandon their young when there’s something wrong with them; it’s survival of the fittest in the animal kingdom. I suspected the mother cat had been too young and might not have known what to do when she gave birth. She had left the kittens in their sacs and I assume the rest of the litter suffocated. The one that lived looked like the runt in a premature litter, but it had clawed open the sac from the inside and had freed its face to breathe. It was crawling using its front two legs, dragging the rest of its body still in the sac as well as the attached placenta. Um yeah, it was a pitiful sight. And yes, I scooped it out of the pile of dead kittens and placentas to do what I could for the poor thing. It would have been unconscionable on my part not to try. So, while my conscious is clear, my heart is sad as I say farewell to a tiny little creature who tried its best to survive.
My family had called this Operation Cletus (because it rhymed with fetus *glares*). The kitten stayed under a light bulb for the most part but when my son saw me carrying the kitten wrapped in a washcloth and tucked in the crook of my arm, he started calling us Paris and Tinkerbell. Yeah, my family is merciless when it comes to name calling. Given how tiny the kitten was, Tinkerbell is the name by which this little one will be remembered.
The kitty asleep after taking a full! eyedropper of formula :)
Warning: some of the pics under the next cut may be considered a little pitiful. Nothing graphic, just a scrawny kitten.
Operation Cletus begins
Three cleanings later and on the move
Hungry baby (it sort of looks like a baboon face here)
Here’s to show its size in relation to my car keys and the
smallest kitten bottle available which was still too big for it.
At first, it couldn't latch/suck so I let it lick
the formula from between my thumb and forefinger.
I may never be able to put salt there again though. :/
A few days later, it was drinking formula from an eyedropper.
Whiskers on kittens, glistening with milk - it's right up there with puppy breath. Awww! :)
Day 5 - Weighing in at 1.5 ounces (of course, that was right after taking .5 oz. of formula :P)
And Tinkerbell was its Name-O
At least, it got to go to the beach on its last day. All right, I just held it up in front of a painting but it liked hearing how sunshine would feel like its heat lamp.
It may sound hardhearted to be so accepting of this loss but it’s necessary to accept the failures with the successes in animal rescue situations. If you can’t balance a kind heart with a pragmatic approach, you can’t keep doing it for long. Life itself is a balancing act of good/bad, win/lose, and live/die. Did I delay the inevitable? Obviously, yes. Would I do it again? Yes. It was the right thing to do. You can’t save the world, but you can do your best by every living thing you encounter. Why? Because, it’s what Jesus would freaking do! :P Not to mention, karma’s a bitch.
R.I.P. Tinkerbell, I’m a better person for having known you.