For the Love of Cats

It was during the family (extended) Christmas celebration that my sister brought us all up to her house to see the little family that had settled in on her porch. Three little kittens and a Momma Cat whose tail you can see just a little bit of as she moves in for a petting. Of course, we all "ooh'ed and aah'ed" and thought to ourselves "how very cute, too bad we can't take them home with us."


That evening, after a second visit which included a bit of wine, we crossed paths this this little bunch again. This time the kittens were all huddled up in a group and the Momma Cat was standing outside their home, ready to do battle with any threat. So very brave!

Oh the cold. Oh the risk of perishing at the hands of a wild animal. My heart clenched. What to do?

On Sunday I called my sister and said "post pictures - we have possible adoptive homes." Within an hour my friend Jane had signed up for two kittens and we were taking the Momma. Baby Gray was still up for grabs but would stay with one of us until he was old enough to move on.

Earliest vet appointment would be today (Wednesday) so at 7'ish in the morning Chris and I dashed to Sis's house (about 40 minutes away), helped my Brother-in-Law scoop up all of the cats, and we raced back to the vet for a 9 am appointment.




Momma and two kittens quickly settled in comfortably on the scale - altogether weighing a whopping 13 lbs.













While Abigail (the Siamese) decided to play with the air vent.








With all four sneezing, eyes running, and quite a bit of general stinky-ness, the vet pronounced them adorable but quite sick. Meds were prescribed.

We'd begun learning how to administer everything with very patient Vet Assistants taking us through the entire process when the kindly Doctor walked back through the door and gravely announced that Momma Cat had FILV (Cat Aids.) There was nothing else to do, they would all have to be tested. Blood was drawn, pathetic mews were heard, and then we settled in to wait.

Baby Gray was tired of the cold floor. So he climbed up Chris's pant leg and settled in for a nice nap.



And there we all waited.

When the vet came back the news was mixed.

Abigail and "Beau" (the grey striped kitten) were fine. But Baby Gray also had cat aids and was sick enough that possible recovery was slim to none. He would not be going home with anyone.

As we stood there holding him, he drifted to sleep curled in our warmth and we thought "how quickly a small cat can wriggle his way into your heart." We didn't leave him, even as he took his last struggling breath. Having an animal die in your arms, no matter the reason, is just as hard at 43 as it was at 16. But it was the right decision.

Momma Cat, who we were ready for back home, was also destined for a different road. Her FILV status meant that there was risk to Fluff & Snickers, the two grey tabbies we've had for 9 and 14 years respectively. A foster family had been found and the vet would care for her until she was well enough for the spaying surgery we gladly paid for. Fortunately, we also learned that she wasn't pregnant again, something we'd feared.



After all of this we decided to keep Beau - calling my daughter to announce the decision and having her laugh at us because, once again, we were adding a grey tabby to the household. But I suspect my niece will be thrilled to know she'll see her playmate again.

A thousand dollars later and three cats will have much better lives. Maybe a little good Karma for us.

On the other hand, I am unbelievably angry at the people responsible for failing to spay and neuter - and likely dumping the Momma in the first place. We don't think all the kittens were hers but at least one was. Had it not been for the warm hearts of my sister's family, and eventually our own cat love, it could have been a much different story.

So, if you are reading this and you have an un-neutered pet, get off your ass and fix the situation.

NL