one way you know your evening has gone to hell
I had suspected it for a while. But a few days ago I saw blood, and I told my 8 year old daughter Ariann that my cat Agni was not, in fact, pregnant.
Gina thought she was just fat. Turns out I was right, though. Shortly after we got home this evening we saw the kitten on the living room chair.
He was dead. Agni was trying to revive him.
After a call to the 24 hour vet, we decided to take Agni in. Agni is, after all, ten years old. That's about 70 in human years. I spent two hours there. Two X-Rays. Two hundred dollars.
She had another kitten inside of her!
The doctor and I talked about what to do, how to treat her, what to look for, and so on. As we were talking, Agni started having her other kitten. She was coming out rear end first -- hardly ideal, but Agni was doing her level best.
After a short time it was apparent that the second kitten was stillborn as well. She wasn't struggling at all.
The first kitten had a cleft palate and malformed limbs. Maybe a few other things. The second had an open abdomen. They were both deformed and not viable. That doesn't make it any easier.
Now I'm home. Ariann cried herself to sleep. She really wanted a kitten. She has no idea what it was like, watching my beloved pet struggle to birth a thing that had no spirit in the first place. I am not going to tell her; what she already knows is enough. Gina didn't want to tell her about the second kitten, but I felt she had a right to know. Knowing the truth is the best thing.
I am strong for Ariann, who fell asleep in the crook of my arm. I am strong for Gina, who cried her eyes out after I got up. I am strong for Agni, who is thoroughly confused.
Both of the kittens appeared to be all black. But I broke down when I realized that one of them had a single white paw.
Knowing the truth is the best thing, but knowing the truth doesn't make it any easier to bear.
Gina thought she was just fat. Turns out I was right, though. Shortly after we got home this evening we saw the kitten on the living room chair.
He was dead. Agni was trying to revive him.
After a call to the 24 hour vet, we decided to take Agni in. Agni is, after all, ten years old. That's about 70 in human years. I spent two hours there. Two X-Rays. Two hundred dollars.
She had another kitten inside of her!
The doctor and I talked about what to do, how to treat her, what to look for, and so on. As we were talking, Agni started having her other kitten. She was coming out rear end first -- hardly ideal, but Agni was doing her level best.
After a short time it was apparent that the second kitten was stillborn as well. She wasn't struggling at all.
The first kitten had a cleft palate and malformed limbs. Maybe a few other things. The second had an open abdomen. They were both deformed and not viable. That doesn't make it any easier.
Now I'm home. Ariann cried herself to sleep. She really wanted a kitten. She has no idea what it was like, watching my beloved pet struggle to birth a thing that had no spirit in the first place. I am not going to tell her; what she already knows is enough. Gina didn't want to tell her about the second kitten, but I felt she had a right to know. Knowing the truth is the best thing.
I am strong for Ariann, who fell asleep in the crook of my arm. I am strong for Gina, who cried her eyes out after I got up. I am strong for Agni, who is thoroughly confused.
Both of the kittens appeared to be all black. But I broke down when I realized that one of them had a single white paw.
Knowing the truth is the best thing, but knowing the truth doesn't make it any easier to bear.