500 Words a Day (4)

This is supposed to be a stream of consciousness writing exercise for me, but today I actually have something to say.

For about a week and a half, I had taken on the responsibility of caring for 4 abandoned, feral kittens. I knew that the likelihood of their survival without their cat mom was next to nothing. I knew, for the most part, that it would be a futile effort,  but what to do?

The caretaker of the property where I live knows I like cats. He knew that 4 had recently been abandoned by the mother. A little sweet black one was chosen for me.

That night, holding the kitten and searching Google for information, I decided that there was no way that kitten would survive alone. Maybe with its brothers and sisters it had a better chance of survival. Maybe the mother would return.

We took the cat back less than 2 hours later to rejoin its siblings. The kittens were rolling around in the carport of a temporarily unoccupied house. It was COLD. The 3 of them were separated and crying in the dark. One lay weakly in the track where the gate slides. Not a safe place at all.

After climbing around the bushes and the gate, I collected the kittens and sat with them while Tatok went to get a shoe box. When he returned with the shoe box, we put them inside and put them in a place away from the wind where hopefully their mom would hear their cries and return. To entice her, we brought some milk and soft cat food to put outside the box.

The next afternoon while walking our dog, we passed the house and heard the cries. The owners had returned and taken the box of kittens, as well as the dishes of untouched food, and put them in front of the trash bin.

We looked and all 4 were there; crying and pitiful. What could I do? I had to take them home and try my best.

The precious four in the beginning

Maybe I'm a bit unrealistic (NO LAUGHING!), but I tried as hard as I could to keep them alive. Three times we rubbed and loved the breath back for 3 of the 4. The two weakest ones lasted only a few days. My little black one died peacefully yesterday; even after a trip to the vet, special formula offered every 2 hours and a souped up sleeping area. Today the strongest of the four fell. He gasped for breath, he panted, even though he felt too hot, and the vet said his temperature had plummeted.  He died in my hands, held close to my chest on the way home from the vet.

Last night when he was beginning to slow down...

I'm notoriously hard on myself. Knowing that, I did everything I could to keep these babies going. I set the alarm clock to wake me nightly for feedings. We put a lamp over a cushy box for them to sleep. We took them to the vet. We kept them warm, fed them and loved them. 

Without the antibodies from the nutrient-rich mother's milk, however, little kittens barely have a chance. And even though I have had cats and kittens my entire life, I've never had any so young and fragile.

It's really hard knowing what to do in such situations. Should I have left those kittens there in front of the trash bin? Maybe, even after all that time, their mother would find them and take them elsewhere, or maybe someone else would collect them. Or maybe they would die in that box in the looming cold, dark night. 

When my sweet cat Kartini died (today at the vet we mentioned it and it sounds like it could have been a neuro-toxin used in rat poison) (Disclosure - this part is based on my experience where I lived at the time. It is not applicable to my current city) I really wondered why one should even bother to love an animal in such a hostile environment. I had heard the stories of dogs being poisoned, seriously toxic rat poison is readily available and regularly used - animals were just animals. It your pet died, you just get another. It's simple.

But it's not.

For American people, pets are like family. Some may argue even better - but animals are a part of our lives and we love them. We cry when they die and we mourn the loss.

So why did I collect those 4 babies?

I learned that when Raden Jinjibu Kartini died that we have at least two choices. We can close our hearts and not subject ourselves to the possible hurt of losing such a fragile gift or we can open our hearts and give them as much love as we can, fully knowing that our time together may be short.

So, those are the options. Protect yourself and your feelings. Keep your love to yourself...or open your heart. Let it hurt - be vulnerable, but enjoy the life and love of your pet. Take a risk. Maybe they'll make it. Maybe they'll live a long life. You'll never know unless you put yourself, and your heart, out there. When and if it's time for them to go, you know that you've done your best and given it your all. Rather than dying alone in a cold box on a curb somewhere, they can die with love in their hearts and hopefully, with a bit of peace and dignity.