furkids and leafbabies

I don’t know if I could handle being a mother. One of my cats gets pissed off at me because I bring home a stray and I’m sobbing in bed for days, shaking my fists and the sky and wailing, “She won’t even talk to me! I was doing it for her! It’s all for her!” Can you imagine how I’d react to a having a teenager? It’s required that they hate their parents for no particular reason. I wouldn’t make it.

Futhermore, I am dangerous when somebody messes with a living thing I am particularly attached too. I mean, I plotted the demise of the janitor in my old office because she bumped my Ming tree with the vacuum cleaner and snapped one of the branches. I was seething. I wanted revenge. How dare she be careless with a little slice of life that I have nurtured from a sprout! I became obsessed with the placement of my orchids on my desk and snarled at co-workers who touched the pots. I drew up little signs threatening dismemberment were anyone to breathe on my phalaenopsis.

And this week I was ready to mobilize the troops because my sick kitten was not getting the world-class veterinary care she deserved -- on a Sunday, at an overcrowded animal shelter.

It’s hard when your critter is sick. This kitten – I’ve grown quite attached to her. It was truly love at first sight for both of us. A tiny Siamese purr-machine, vanilla lilac lynx-point with long hair and slanty, blinky eyes. I knew the second I saw her that I couldn’t leave her at the shelter. Even though I’ve already got two cats, one of which is still slightly miffed about the appearance of the other 8 months ago. Even though I risked my boyfriend tossing me out of the house on my ear for dragging home another animal. She came into the shelter as a stray, quite ill, wormy, ear mite-infested, malnourished, runny-eyed, and smiling. She smiles and kneads and purrs. That’s all she does. Blisskitty. No matter what. She was not spayed, so I completed her paperwork two weeks ago Sunday and she was scheduled to have her surgery the next day.

In between me leaving her Sunday and the vet attending to her Monday, she got really sick. Upper respiratory infection, diarrhea, not eating. They canceled the surgery, but because she was adopted, they didn’t put her in the Isolation building where the sick cats are normally kept. As a result, she was overlooked for daily treatment and when I came in to visit her on Tuesday, she was in bad shape. Her coat was matted and falling out, there was blood on her blankets, she hadn’t eaten in days. And no one seemed overly concerned.

I thought I was going to lose it. I’ve worked at this shelter for a year now, and am continually impressed by the cleanliness of the facilities and the dedication of the staff and volunteers. They have a staff vet that is there regularly, which most shelters do not have. In general, they go above and beyond in the treatment of sick animals. So it was probably pure fluke that this kitten was being neglected, and it was just bad luck that she happened to belong to someone who volunteers there. Well, in the end, it was very good luck for her that her adoptee was a volunteer. I made quite a stink on Sunday, and said I wanted to take her out of the shelter and bring her to my own vet because nobody seemed concerned about her welfare. I was really upset. You think I’m protective of my orchids? You should see me with something that has fur.

But they assured me she would see the vet first thing the next morning and get everthing she needed. So we went to visit little Lunabelle Violet on Tuesday. She was looking much better. She still looks horribly ill, but she ate the can of tuna I brought her and seemed more alert than previously. They have her in the Isolation building now, where it’s warmer and each room has a Vic’s vaporizer blowing mentholated steam. The volunteers also spend extra time with the Iso cats. Animals tend to heal better when they’re given physical attention. There’s volunteers who just sit and hold the cats and comfort them. Sometimes they are hand-fed. They get better faster. Knowing this, I’ve been driving up to Lynnwood in rush hour traffic every couple of days to visit with Lunabelle.

She finishes her round of antibiotics today and her spay is now scheduled for tomorrow. So I can pick her up Saturday when I go in for my shift. It’s been an emotional roller coaster for me – even though this little kitkat has barely been mine for 2 weeks, I was upset about her illness to the point of not sleeping, worrying myself sick, being distracted at work. Like I said, I’m not sure I could handle having a kid.

I'd like to take this opportunity to publicly thank the Boy for not throwing me and my dirty beasts out of the house, and also for being an excellent nursemaid for both the physically ill cat and the mentally ill girl. I am doubly blessed.

Here’s a photo of Lunabelle Violet from her shelter file. It’s not very good, but she is devastatingly cute. I’ll take some better photos of her when she comes home on Saturday. I'm preparing myself now for not just one, but two pissed off resident cats.