Pets: Part Two

Heartbreak




I've delayed posting this one, for a while now. I think it's about time to share the story of three baby kittens who touched my heart in a profound way, while they were on this Earth. Here goes:

My sister and I have decided to split the responsibility of hand-rearing three abandoned feral kittens. Apparently, Mama Kitty had six, and left these three behind. It's understandable, since she's fighting to feed herself. Six babies would have overwhelmed her. It's the nature of the beast, and it sucks, but that's where awesome rescues come in, and volunteers like us step up!

I'm honored to get the chance to try and save these little guys' lives, and raise them to be awesome house-cats!

At the moment, I'm sleep-deprived, irritable, and starting to wonder if it was such a good idea...and it's only been ONE DAY!

(I'm really not cut out for this "Mom" thing...)

The last 24-hours of my life:

Yesterday, March 22, 2014

HOUR ONE! (Roughly 16:00, or 4 P.M.)

I'm really, really excited! I haven't bottle-fed a kitten for almost a decade, but I'm sure it's just like riding a bike, right? ...er...right??

Alright...

"Step one: put formula in bottle." ..alright easy enough.
"Step two: warm formula." ..ok...? how? Do I microwave the bottle? NO! Bad. Uh...OH! OH! Boil water in the microwave, and place the bottle inside the water! I. Am. A. Genius!
"Step three: test temperature of formu-" OW! SHIT, THAT'S HOT! *glare*
*amended* "Step three-and-a-half: let formula cool."...
"Step four: FEED THE KITTENS!!" ...alright...um...open up! Open...UP! Um...hmm...please open up? *quickly put bottle in kitten's mouth mid-squeak* HA! I win. :P

HOUR TWO!

Repeat all steps from hour one, for two more kittens...then the fun part!

"Rub the genitalia of the kittens so they can poop and pee."...ewwww!

*rub rub rub* OH! Oh, GOD! How much did you eat?! *fights back gag* Oh, geez....oh, geez...oh, geez!
Ew! Ew! ...Oh, good, you're done! NEXT!

The next two kittens weren't as "backed-up" so there was far less gagging and cringing. Hey! Maybe I'm getting the hang of this! Place kittens back in warm box and relax for a minute!

HOUR FOUR!

Whoa, wait, what? It's already been two hours? It's time for another feeding...NOW? Gosh, can't I just take a breather?

*kitten screaming from within the shoe box*

... apparently not...

Warm formula, test temperature, let formula cool, feed...
erm...feed?
Please, may I feed you?
I promise you want this!
No, don't squirm!
HEY! Careful!
I'm going to drop you!
*slip bottle into kitten's mouth, mid-scream* (Wait, is that my scream, or his...?)
HA! I win, again! BOOYAH!

Help kitties go potty, again. It's far less gross, this time! Hooray for small victories!

HOUR SIX-AND-A-HALF! (roughly 22:30)

Wait...hey! How did the second feeding take longer than the first? I thought it went much smoother than that train-wreck of a first one!

Whatever...

Warm formula, test formuuuuu- *yaawwwnnnn* Oh, my...-la. That was a good one. Eye-watering, jaw-cracking...the whole works! Yup! Great yawn!

Feed- WAIT! Let it cool first, dummy!...*whistles* Sorry, little buddy. Almost scorched you, there...

...

*hums "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts!"*

...

"...some as big as your head!"

Alright! Feed kittens! Aww...look at them! They're so adorable! They're finally figuring out this whole bottle thing!




.........................................................................................


This went on, pretty much around the clock for 24 hours. I dropped the kids off with my sister with the intention of getting some very-much needed sleep. I got about 4 hours of rest when my sister calls me, crying.

We'd lost the two black and white ones.

I hopped in the only car and high-tailed it to her house, to console her. I've been here, before. Losing babies is horrible. You always have that niggling feeling in the back of your mind that you did something wrong; that somehow, you killed them. She didn't do anything wrong, of course, but that's how it feels.

I was able to calm her down, and after a failed attempt at kitten CPR, we had her dad bury them. He even gave them a little grave marker, which was very touching.

Once the sorrow had abated, we both knew that we had to pour whatever was left of our hearts into the last remaining kitten...and we did.

I took over the care, the next morning, and spent the next twelve hours, or so, holding the baby, and coming up with a more efficient feeding method. He was the smallest and weakest of the three, and he was the survivor. I named him Ash.

I knew, in my mind, that the odds were stacked against him. He likely didn't get the colostrum (first milk) from his momma, so his immune system was very susceptible to disease and infection. I knew there was a damn good chance he wouldn't make it. Against my better judgement, I named him anyway. That's all it took. He had a name. He was in my heart.

He was eating like crazy, and I was able to get him to use the bathroom, after some coaxing and a tip from a local veterinarian. He was warm and he was active, and he seemed to be doing great!

Then, the next night, when I dropped him off at my sister's house, I noticed that he was acting strangely. He was bending his neck all the way back until his head was touching his shoulders. My heat sank. That's the same thing the other babies were doing, just a few hours before they passed over to Rainbow Bridge. I was staying on the couch at my sister's house, that night, because I wanted her to be completely comfortable with the new feeding method that he had taken to.

I got about 4 hours of sleep that night.

I took him back to my house that morning, fed him, bathroomed him, and got him warm. I was letting him rest in the box when I heard this pitiful little meow come from him. It sounded so weak. I peered inside and Ash was doing the neck arching thing again. I picked him up and he took his last big breath in my hands. I tried to resuscitate him, to no avail.

I cried and held him closely. Then, I took him to my sister's to be buried with his siblings.

It's heartbreaking to lose the little ones, especially because it's so easy to become attached to them. This isn't the first time I've seen newborn kittens die, but it was the first time it hit me so hard. This little 6-day-old baby wormed his way into my heart. I bonded with him, and he with me, I think. When he'd squeak, I'd hold him close to my chest, and he'd calm down. I talked to him, even though he probably couldn't hear me. I'd watch him sleep in his little shoe box.

The only solace I have from this whole experience, is that we gave that little guys 4 more days of full-bellies, and warm beds, than they would have had, if we hadn't volunteered to care for them. Ash and his littermates didn't die lonely and cold. They went out of this world warm and loved.

Times like this make me question my decision to become a Veterinary Assistant. How can I possibly be able to handle this kind of heart-break for the rest of my life? Am I really cut out for this? Yes. I just have to remind myself of the animals that I have helped save. My sister and I have taken in numerous stray and lost dogs, and reunited them with their families, over the last 10 years, or more. I remember bringing home stray animals when I was a kid. This is what I was meant to do. It's my calling.

Ash, and his story, will remain with me for the rest of my life. He will serve as my inspiration to continue to push through the pain and sorrow, to keep trying my hardest to save the lives of animals, to keep bringing strays into my home and showing them love and compassion.

Because of Ash, I will give every animal the opportunity to feel loved, and warm, and safe, before they leave this planet...

That's what they all deserve.