24 hours
My apologies for the lack of updates. Life has once again gotten away from me. Sometimes I ride the waves, sometimes I start to drown. I'm updating now because I need to. I need to write out my feelings and I need to remember a friend.
Thursday night at work someone found a kitten. I didn't go outside because I knew that I would want to take him home. Actually, I was hoping that he'd get to go home with the little girl that found him. She tried everything, even calling the Humane Society (they were closed). Finally, after many tears she surrendered and went home. This meant I went outside. What I saw was truly sad. I've rescued many animals in my 27 years, but I wasn't prepared for how sick this little guy was. I would find out later that he was 10 weeks old and weighed only 1.2 pounds. I called Jay, asking him to bring tuna. I was going to take him home and do what I could. Thankfully he ate and drank some water. He was so weak that he had trouble walking, but he was fighting and if he could try, so could I.
He had to sleep on the front porch because I could risk the health of my other kitties, but I gave him the kitty cube with the fleece lining, lots of towels, and the porch is closed in with sliding glass doors. It's not getting cold at night here yet, so I hoped he would be okay. Honestly, he was so thin I was afraid he wouldn't make it through the night. But the next morning he was there and ate a little more for me. I asked Jay to take him to the vet for me because these trips are never good for me and for the first time I really knew I wasn't going to get good news. He couldn't because of work and off I was. Alone.
I took this tiny little body into the vet. No matter how clean I tried to make him, he was a mess, and she told me I had two choices. I could say that I had given him a good home for the night and let him go, or I could risk myself and the kids, and take on a lot of work. I told her that his eyes looked better and he had tried to take a bath, so I wanted to fight. She said we'd do what we could. I was to call back later and could pick up up after work.
When I called I was told that it was not good. He had 3 different kinds of worms, one being whip worm which is rarely found in cats. They had given him 3 flea baths, fluids under his skin, a de-wormer, and an antibiotic. I already knew he was critically anemic and couldn't control his body temperature. I struggled. I didn't know if I was hurting him more by trying to save him. I tried to call Jay, Mom, my grandmother... But I couldn't reach anyone. I had to stand on my own. So I called my vet and she said to let him try. I agreed. If he wasn't in pain, I was going to give him his only shot. I picked him up, took him home and he walked around purring and chattering. He ate well, drank, used his litter (a first) and gave me cuddles. I thought we were okay and eventually my extended lunch hour ran out and I had to go back to work.
When I returned home 3 and a half hours later I went straight to the porch. He meowed, came over to me and curled up in my lap. I covered him with a blanket because he was always so cold and he purred away. I then called everyone with an update and while I was talking he just got really quiet. Dozing off and on. Then he started getting cold and I noticed when he tried to drink that his motor skills were off. He cuddled back up in my lap, purred a bit more, and again the quiet. We sat there for 2 hours. Eventually he lost all of his reactivity and I knew that his spirit had moved on. His body just had to catch up.
I held him until he started to react and we had to lay him down. Jay was blessedly there for this part and he took over. I curled up in a pitiful heap, sitting on the doorsill between the porch and the house. I had been okay when I was the only one there, but once Jay came home I fell to pieces. I sat there trying to be calm for him and wishing him a good journey. It took me a while, but I was able to find the peace in it. His passing was very quiet and subdued. I don't think that he suffered and I'm so glad that he didn't have to do it alone. He was loved if only for one day.
The worst part was the clean up. It was like having to erase him. I had to clean everything on the porch, throw away what he had slept on (he didn't have enough blood to be able to test him for diseases). We had to wash our clothes and ourselves. We buried him in the middle of three of bushes and I'm going to buy a stone for him. He was the sweetest little orange tabby. So pale that you could only see the stripes in places. He had green eyes rather than amber and through it all he never complained.
The rest of my weekend was an effort to keep moving. I had been so busy with him that I didn't eat Friday and I didn't want to on Saturday, or Sunday.... I just wanted to huddle on the sofa. We went to the powwow because it was hard to stay home, but I was only physically there. I know I only had him with me for a short while, but oh how I miss him. I wanted so badly to give him what someone should have all along. People enfuriate me. How anyone can let that happen is beyond me. I was already having issues with the treatment of animals in New Orleans. I'll leave my rants out of my journal. Most of you already know how I feel.
I had to go to work yesterday and tell everyone that I had to say goodbye. They had been so supportive Friday and they were again yesterday. I appreciate it more than I can let them know. I'm trying really hard to be okay. Sometimes I get wrapped up in things and I am okay. A busy mind doesn't leave room for thinking. Other times, most times, I'm just really... really sad.
Thursday night at work someone found a kitten. I didn't go outside because I knew that I would want to take him home. Actually, I was hoping that he'd get to go home with the little girl that found him. She tried everything, even calling the Humane Society (they were closed). Finally, after many tears she surrendered and went home. This meant I went outside. What I saw was truly sad. I've rescued many animals in my 27 years, but I wasn't prepared for how sick this little guy was. I would find out later that he was 10 weeks old and weighed only 1.2 pounds. I called Jay, asking him to bring tuna. I was going to take him home and do what I could. Thankfully he ate and drank some water. He was so weak that he had trouble walking, but he was fighting and if he could try, so could I.
He had to sleep on the front porch because I could risk the health of my other kitties, but I gave him the kitty cube with the fleece lining, lots of towels, and the porch is closed in with sliding glass doors. It's not getting cold at night here yet, so I hoped he would be okay. Honestly, he was so thin I was afraid he wouldn't make it through the night. But the next morning he was there and ate a little more for me. I asked Jay to take him to the vet for me because these trips are never good for me and for the first time I really knew I wasn't going to get good news. He couldn't because of work and off I was. Alone.
I took this tiny little body into the vet. No matter how clean I tried to make him, he was a mess, and she told me I had two choices. I could say that I had given him a good home for the night and let him go, or I could risk myself and the kids, and take on a lot of work. I told her that his eyes looked better and he had tried to take a bath, so I wanted to fight. She said we'd do what we could. I was to call back later and could pick up up after work.
When I called I was told that it was not good. He had 3 different kinds of worms, one being whip worm which is rarely found in cats. They had given him 3 flea baths, fluids under his skin, a de-wormer, and an antibiotic. I already knew he was critically anemic and couldn't control his body temperature. I struggled. I didn't know if I was hurting him more by trying to save him. I tried to call Jay, Mom, my grandmother... But I couldn't reach anyone. I had to stand on my own. So I called my vet and she said to let him try. I agreed. If he wasn't in pain, I was going to give him his only shot. I picked him up, took him home and he walked around purring and chattering. He ate well, drank, used his litter (a first) and gave me cuddles. I thought we were okay and eventually my extended lunch hour ran out and I had to go back to work.
When I returned home 3 and a half hours later I went straight to the porch. He meowed, came over to me and curled up in my lap. I covered him with a blanket because he was always so cold and he purred away. I then called everyone with an update and while I was talking he just got really quiet. Dozing off and on. Then he started getting cold and I noticed when he tried to drink that his motor skills were off. He cuddled back up in my lap, purred a bit more, and again the quiet. We sat there for 2 hours. Eventually he lost all of his reactivity and I knew that his spirit had moved on. His body just had to catch up.
I held him until he started to react and we had to lay him down. Jay was blessedly there for this part and he took over. I curled up in a pitiful heap, sitting on the doorsill between the porch and the house. I had been okay when I was the only one there, but once Jay came home I fell to pieces. I sat there trying to be calm for him and wishing him a good journey. It took me a while, but I was able to find the peace in it. His passing was very quiet and subdued. I don't think that he suffered and I'm so glad that he didn't have to do it alone. He was loved if only for one day.
The worst part was the clean up. It was like having to erase him. I had to clean everything on the porch, throw away what he had slept on (he didn't have enough blood to be able to test him for diseases). We had to wash our clothes and ourselves. We buried him in the middle of three of bushes and I'm going to buy a stone for him. He was the sweetest little orange tabby. So pale that you could only see the stripes in places. He had green eyes rather than amber and through it all he never complained.
The rest of my weekend was an effort to keep moving. I had been so busy with him that I didn't eat Friday and I didn't want to on Saturday, or Sunday.... I just wanted to huddle on the sofa. We went to the powwow because it was hard to stay home, but I was only physically there. I know I only had him with me for a short while, but oh how I miss him. I wanted so badly to give him what someone should have all along. People enfuriate me. How anyone can let that happen is beyond me. I was already having issues with the treatment of animals in New Orleans. I'll leave my rants out of my journal. Most of you already know how I feel.
I had to go to work yesterday and tell everyone that I had to say goodbye. They had been so supportive Friday and they were again yesterday. I appreciate it more than I can let them know. I'm trying really hard to be okay. Sometimes I get wrapped up in things and I am okay. A busy mind doesn't leave room for thinking. Other times, most times, I'm just really... really sad.