R.I.P. (X 2)
Last night at work, I found myself at the 24-hour vet again, sobbing over yet another cat that had been struck by a car and left for dead. Her spinal cord was badly damaged; her lower half was completely dead. I brought her in and held her while the drugs helped her slip away, and I tried (and failed) not to cry.
I named her Princess.
Fast-forward 8 hours, and I'm at the hospital to check on the twins. And I find out that Baby Boy didn't make it. He died on Wednesday. His sister is still hanging on, and I stood outside of her tiny incubator and held back tears as I silently hoped that she would keep on fighting.
Ironically, I just received a Letter of Commendation from the higher-ups for the "excellent work" I did delivering the babies.
Apparently, that letter was written BEFORE Wednesday.
I named her Princess.
Fast-forward 8 hours, and I'm at the hospital to check on the twins. And I find out that Baby Boy didn't make it. He died on Wednesday. His sister is still hanging on, and I stood outside of her tiny incubator and held back tears as I silently hoped that she would keep on fighting.
Ironically, I just received a Letter of Commendation from the higher-ups for the "excellent work" I did delivering the babies.
Apparently, that letter was written BEFORE Wednesday.