Major Guilt
When I think about what happened Friday night, I still get sick to my stomach. If you dislike cats or don't want to read a very sad story, please don't click.
I think I killed our kitten. Her name was Peppermint Patty. She had been in our home for only ten days. She may have starved to death, or might have been dropped or stepped on or something when I wasn't watching. Or it could be she was just too little to have been taken from her mother. No matter how it happened I feel so responsible. I was entrusted with her little innocent life. And if I can't care for a little kitten, am I responsible enough to care for 3 kids?
Dh found the poor little thing all stiff in a small room off our basement playroom. That's where we had kept her bed, litter pan, etc. We got burned a couple of years ago with a neutered male cat that peed or marked all over the house, so we were being extra cautious about what parts of the house she was allowed in until we were sure she was litter trained. He called me down early Saturday morning to double-check. It was a horrible sight that I can't get out of my head. I hope that writing about it will be therapeutic.
We got Peppermint Patty from a farm about 60 miles from our house that had 18 kittens to give away. There were three litters, various sizes, and the people there didn't know any of their ages. I asked "are you sure they're weaned?" because some of them looked awfully tiny, including Patty. I was assured they were eating well by dh's co-worker who lives there and had advertised the kittens on the intraoffice classifieds. I did see PP eat some at first and she was using the litter box. So I thought she was getting enough to eat. But she slept more and ate less every day. I reasoned that was because she needed more rest to grow, and thought maybe she was eating when we weren't around because she liked her privacy. I let the kids play with her a few times when I wasn't in the room. I was probably on the computer while they were downstairs with her. Friday night she cried when I put her in her bed. Our power was out and I chalked it up to her being a little afraid of the dark and not wanting to be put down. The sound of that little cry haunts me.
Why didn't I see this coming? Why didn't I keep a closer eye on things? Why didn't I insist she stay with her mama longer and we could pick her up later? Why didn't I go to PetCo and get her some formula when I didn't see her eating? Was she incredibly lonely? What is God trying to teach me here? That I need to be a more attentive Mom? I'm trying to forgive myself and move on. It's so hard. I keep wondering if she suffered. I think she probably did. Again, my responsiblity.
We are going to get a new kitty, maybe two. To keep each other company. We don't want the kids to be traumatized by the memory of the one that died. We'll go back to the farm after dh gets off work this afternoon to pick it/them out. If there's any doubt about size I WILL ask them if we can come back in a couple of weeks. The new kitty(s) will have run of the house from Day One. We'll probably keep the kitty stuff in the master bath this time. Maybe we just didn't trust enough or love enough. I'm pretty scared. Don't know if I can handle something like this happening again. Prayers appreciated.
I think I killed our kitten. Her name was Peppermint Patty. She had been in our home for only ten days. She may have starved to death, or might have been dropped or stepped on or something when I wasn't watching. Or it could be she was just too little to have been taken from her mother. No matter how it happened I feel so responsible. I was entrusted with her little innocent life. And if I can't care for a little kitten, am I responsible enough to care for 3 kids?
Dh found the poor little thing all stiff in a small room off our basement playroom. That's where we had kept her bed, litter pan, etc. We got burned a couple of years ago with a neutered male cat that peed or marked all over the house, so we were being extra cautious about what parts of the house she was allowed in until we were sure she was litter trained. He called me down early Saturday morning to double-check. It was a horrible sight that I can't get out of my head. I hope that writing about it will be therapeutic.
We got Peppermint Patty from a farm about 60 miles from our house that had 18 kittens to give away. There were three litters, various sizes, and the people there didn't know any of their ages. I asked "are you sure they're weaned?" because some of them looked awfully tiny, including Patty. I was assured they were eating well by dh's co-worker who lives there and had advertised the kittens on the intraoffice classifieds. I did see PP eat some at first and she was using the litter box. So I thought she was getting enough to eat. But she slept more and ate less every day. I reasoned that was because she needed more rest to grow, and thought maybe she was eating when we weren't around because she liked her privacy. I let the kids play with her a few times when I wasn't in the room. I was probably on the computer while they were downstairs with her. Friday night she cried when I put her in her bed. Our power was out and I chalked it up to her being a little afraid of the dark and not wanting to be put down. The sound of that little cry haunts me.
Why didn't I see this coming? Why didn't I keep a closer eye on things? Why didn't I insist she stay with her mama longer and we could pick her up later? Why didn't I go to PetCo and get her some formula when I didn't see her eating? Was she incredibly lonely? What is God trying to teach me here? That I need to be a more attentive Mom? I'm trying to forgive myself and move on. It's so hard. I keep wondering if she suffered. I think she probably did. Again, my responsiblity.
We are going to get a new kitty, maybe two. To keep each other company. We don't want the kids to be traumatized by the memory of the one that died. We'll go back to the farm after dh gets off work this afternoon to pick it/them out. If there's any doubt about size I WILL ask them if we can come back in a couple of weeks. The new kitty(s) will have run of the house from Day One. We'll probably keep the kitty stuff in the master bath this time. Maybe we just didn't trust enough or love enough. I'm pretty scared. Don't know if I can handle something like this happening again. Prayers appreciated.