The yowling banshee, orphaned and rescued last week, has become a quiet purr box. His loud mewling cries (unlike any kitten cries I’d ever heard) have been replaced by kitty whispers.
Every four hours, he is prompted to eliminate (young kittens can’t pee or poop without help) and then fed kitten formula from a tiny baby bottle.
Daughter noticed one of his back feet was swollen, so off to the vet she headed with him in tow yesterday. A round of antibiotics, a dose of worm medicine and a rectal temperature check made for one angry kitten.
Can’t say that I blame him. The vet confirmed that he’s only 3 weeks old but could only with reasonable assurance confirm that he’s he and not she.
So far, his life experience has been a hard one. Too small to fight back (though he does try), tiny claws and no teeth to speak of – his only defense is his piteous mewing.
Poor baby. Who can blame him?
Feed him. Pet him. Warm him. Cuddle him. The reward is a happy purr box wrapped in soft, gray fuzz blinking up at you with blue kitten eyes.
It’s hard not to become attached. When you take care of something, you become attached to it…feel a responsibility for it…dare I say “love it”? Daughter’s heart has warmed toward him and I gently remind her that he can’t stay with us.
We are fostering him – loving and caring for him and giving him all he needs until he’s adopted by a loving family that will take him in and make him a part of them.
I’m counting down – he’s 3 weeks, going on 4. At 6 to 8 weeks he will be weaned and on solid food. Health issues will be corrected and he should be one healthy, happy kitten.
We can’t keep him. I repeat this mantra several times daily.
Not so much for myself. No, I’ve reached the age where my heart has hardened around the edges and I’m no longer the sucker I was for a cute fuzzy face or a mewling cry. I know there are others (somewhere) who can give more than I. Though concerned for his welfare, I don’t feel responsible for going beyond the initial, immediate, necessary steps of preserving life and getting him off to a good start.
I chose life for the kitten. But, I don’t want a cat as a pet – indoors or out. It’s a responsibility I don’t want or need at this stage of my life. My house is too small, my heart too full, my hands too busy with life as I live it.
And, so, we are looking for a home for this cute little guy…. It can’t be just any home, of course. It must be a family that will take him and love him and keep him safe. He’s a special kitty that’s overcoming odds and hardships. He deserves a special family who can appreciate his whispered mews and desire to cuddle.
So far, we have three people interested. Of course, I’ve found a reason to question the ability of all three to raise him and care for him properly. One wants to place him outside immediately. The second wants to have him de-clawed and keep him indoors, maybe. And, the third is newly married and what she really wants is a baby, but they aren’t ready for one yet.
There’s still time. The right family will come along.
Repeat after me. We can’t keep him…we can’t keep him…we can’t keep him….