I love animals. I love them dearly. I'm not a vegetarian or a member of PETA. But I have a profound respect and love for all God's creatures, no matter how small. I've always been that way.
Some members of my family have nicknamed me "Ellie Mae" (as in Ellie Mae Clampett) because I've had such an assortment of critters through the years. I'm known for bringing home strays of all kinds, not just cats and dogs, but 'possums, raccoons, deer...whatever needs a home or a surrogate "mommy".
Almost four and a half years ago, while working on our family dairy farm, I came across four little kittens. They were roughly two weeks old and their Mom had abandoned them. They were scared, alone, hungry, and cold, and I took them home with me. The first one I found was a little girl. I named her Poop because she was "the sh*t". :-) I called her "Princess Pretty Poop" to be exact. I'm not sure why, the name just stuck. She's the only cat I know named Poop.
Anyway, I raised those cats. All four of them. I was their Momma Cat. I fed them every two hours, even through the night, I bathed them, I potty trained them (not just teaching them to use the litter box, mind you, but after every feeding I had to use a warm wet washcloth to "stimulate" their privates and causing them to expel their urine and fecal matter...technical terms huh, but it is what Mommy cats do when they lick their babies after they eat, cause kittens that young can't use the bathroom by themselves and require stimulation...there's your cat biology lesson for the day). Anyway...I was the Cat Mom.
Eventually one of the kittens died. He had been stepped on my a calf when he was just born and because of that, his head was malformed and he couldn't be taught to eat solid food. We couldn't keep him on the bottle forever and eventually he died because he wasn't getting enough nutrients. He always had plenty to eat, mind you, but just not enough vitamins and minerals. His name was Weebles, because he wobbled when he walked and sometimes walked in circles...but he never fell down. :-) He was a sweet cat...ill tempered as all get out, but sweet none the less.
Poop and her brother (Bart) and sister (Emmie) made it and I moved them in with my other cat, Oliver, when they were six weeks old (he's just a few months older than them). All was well in the kitty cat kingdom until about two years ago. In the winter of 2007, Emmie and Poop fell ill. They had a lung infection. I took them to the vet. He tested them for feline leukemia and it came back positive. After some antibiotics and some long and stressful nights of me sitting up with them and forcing them to drink Pedalyte because they wouldn't eat or drink anything else, they finally pulled through, although Emmie's lungs were never quite the same. But Poop was fine.
Unfortunatly, there is no cure for feline leukemia and it is VERY contagious to other cats. It basically breaks down a cat's immune system, so anything they catch can be the death of them. Poop and Emmie were born with it, that means that Bart probably has it as well, although I've never had him tested. And Oliver, because he was raised with them and has shared food and water with them, probably has it as well...eventhough I've never had him tested either. For all intents and purposes Bart, Poop, and Oliver have all been pretty healthy and Emmie's only real problem is that she gets congested easily.
That being said, I lost Poop this morning.
She had gotten sick and wasn't eating a lot, but she was still eating and drinking...just not a lot. She had lost a lot of weight too. My vet lives an hour away and my cats don't travel well. So I decided I would just go get the usual meds for the sickness, which is what I did.
Knowing that they have feline leukemia, I knew that it was just a matter of time before I lost them, so I didn't want to add to any stress on them by forcing them to go back and forth to the vet, just to prolong the inevitable. If the vet was five minutes from my home, I might would do it, but an hour up there and an hour back was too traumatic for them.
Anyway, the medicine didn't work this time. Poop's breathing got worse. She stopped eating and drinking altogether. I knew what was coming, so I had been sleeping in the floor with her for the past few nights...just to let her know that her adoptive Mom was there. This morning I left out to go feed my outside critters (chickens, dogs, a couple more cats...) and when I came back to check on her, she was already gone.
I'm terribly upset. These were my kitty "children". And although I know it would NEVER compare to losing a real child, she was my pet, my friend, my family...and I was very attached. So for all you pet lovers out there, tonight give your critters an extra hug from me and Poop and say a little prayer for my broken heart while you are at it.
Thanks.
(Poop facing off with my pet duck, Tenbrooks.) (Poop & Bart) (Poop after a bath.)
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