September 01, 2006
The Kitten Didn't Make It
The title says it all.
If you're not reading Claudia's blog, here's what happened: a couple of weeks ago, we found an injured kitten in our back yard. (The injuries looked like cat scratches. Best guess, a tom had attacked the litter.) Then, a bit later, we found its sibling -- the neighbor boy had it on the blade of a shovel. So we adopted the two kittens and tried to keep them alive.
Short version: It didn't work.
They were small -- maybe four weeks? Eyes still blue, ears still floppy. They didn't want to eat. We fed them different things -- recipes from the internet -- but they still showed no interest. The injured one developed a huge abscess, which we burst but which turned into an open wound that wouldn't close. They had ups and downs -- some days they were playful and lively -- but gradually they lost weight.
People do manage to keep kittens alive. Even kittens smaller than these. I don't know what went wrong. Were they sick or damaged in ways we couldn't see? Did we feed them something bad? We don't know.
The uninjured one died suddenly after a week. The injured one hung on and on, growing scrawnier and weaker but still clinging tenaciously to life. We tried everything we could think of, but nothing worked. It just got more emaciated and pathetic. By this morning it was barely able to stand. Then maggots turned up in its still-open wound.
We're all leaving on a trip tomorrow. We could have given the kitten to the housekeeper, but it was all too obvious where this was going.
We gave it Nyquil. A teaspoon will make a hundred-pound human woozy; we figured it would be enough to finish off a three-ounce kitten.
At this writing, the kitten is in a deep, non-responsive sleep, and barely breathing. We're hoping she just slides easily down.
And that's all.
Bummer. How are the boys taking it? I ask because, coincidentally, I have to attend a hamster funeral this evening. I'm feeling bad for my wife, as she must be breaking the news to the girls right about now.
Posted by: Bernard Guerrero at September 1, 2006 07:00 PMAlan (four and a half) was sad. David (three) didn't really get it. We had kept David away from the kittens anyhow -- he's going through a rough-and-rowdy phase -- so I think he didn't really bond.
We buried them in the back yard with a bit of ceremony -- a poem, small rocks for headstones, an assurance that Mommy would plant flowers over them.
Doug M.
Ah, dang! That's so sad to hear. Especially when they've fought so hard to survive.
{{{hugs to all of you}}}}
Posted by: Lorraine at September 1, 2006 08:33 PMDear Doug & Claudia:
Sigh...this is for the best. I have bitten my tongue since Claudia first wrote about this and I am glad that it is finally over. Someone has to be the bad guy here and it might as well be me...sickly kittens in your house was not a place you wanted to be. For all your kindness of heart and compassion, I think that this was a mistake. I am glad that it is over, (and yes, I am a cat person as the saying goes).
The Nyquill was, however, a nice touch. I would have never thought of it. Interesting what creativity wil bring forth.
Have a nice time in Romania, I'm sure the children will be thrilled to see their old haunts and friends. This will take their minds off the subject of the kittens.
Best Wishes,
Traveller
Posted by: Traveller at September 2, 2006 12:31 AMAhh, Nyquil--Claudia had not been so specific in her blog. I do think that was the kindest (and pretty ingenious, might I add) thing to do... I'm glad Alan will have such a fabulous distraction!
Posted by: Renee at September 4, 2006 08:04 PM