I was talking with a dear friend last night about how devastated I am with the loss of Tilt. I don’t know if Tilt was just the catalyst of my tears I have been holding back during the last few months as I have had to say goodbye to several rescues; Torah, Maverick, the three fading kittens, Cyrus, Frankie and then Tilt and I just reached my breaking point when Tilt died.
We were talking about everything regarding rescue. She recently lost an older cat and she said to me “Mary Anne, it would be so easy to stop doing this rescue work. So many people walk around ignoring kittens and cats in distress, you will never be able to stop the tide of homeless kittens no matter what- so why not just stop?” Then before I could answer- she said it for me. “It’s what you do.” And, she is right. It is what I do right or wrong, black or white, it is my path in life. I have tried to stop so many times, but as I jokingly tell my friends “God must not have gotten my memo!” I see these cats all over the place and to not help them isn’t in my character. One of the gals who works with me- we drive the same route home told me the other day she never sees cats run across the road in front of her. Funny thing, I do. I see them scoot across the highway, I always slow down, honk make noise try any aversion I can because I know their life is short enough as it is.
Today, early this morning, I went in to get Baker. I went early before the vets got there and at first the girl wasn’t going to give him to me! You don’t do that- you don’t play that game with me, not with my cats anyway. I got him back- I signed him out “against medical advice” (what a joke that was) I did have to promise them that I would pay off the vet bill before the end of August and I will, even if it kills me. Then I rushed him to my regular vet and lo-and behold the first thing he did was take an x-ray!
He gave him some lactalose and before we got back home, Baker had pooped in the carrier.
He is now back in his cage. I suspect they weren’t giving him water or food because he drank so much water when I released him that I had to refill up the Drinkwell! He is eating- and I hope he will poop again tonight-if not, I will get some lactalouse and help things along…..because after all- it’s what I do.
I can’t close my eyes to the misfortune of the poor animals that are dumped here out in the country. Dogs or cats, I respond. I can keep the cats — and I call a pet rescuer and tell them about the dogs. For some reason they will come to get the dogs, but they don’t give a damn about the cats… seems strange to me, but I am glad they’ll take the dogs. My feral and kind-of-tame cats are not fond of dogs, so it makes things easier for us to have the dogs taken care of.
We’re on a fixed income and sometimes we try to think of ways to be more frugal, but we never skimp on the cats. I’m sometimes astonished at what we spend on cat food, litter, etc., but we don’t hesitate to take the cats to the vet or to buy the food for them — I’d skimp on my own food first!
Sometimes it is heartbreaking. Most of the time it is rewarding — when a kitten bumps faces with me or places a soft paw on my cheek or when a shy adult cat finally rubs against my leg and lets me pet him/her… and I know that I’ve saved them from a slow death in the fields or a painful death in the road — it makes everything seem worthwhile.
I applaud your efforts and shed a tear or two with you when you cry. You are a hero to me.
You are an inspiration to those of us who do rescue work. I always check to see if you have something new to say that I may learn from, or to find out how things are going in your section of the world.
Two weeks ago I held my baby girl foster kitten as she passed away. She didn’t have the strength to hold on any longer even as the tests that were done all came back negative, later that day. Her sibling made it through with medicine, even though there were no signs of any type of infections from the outside. She ate, she drank, but she was failing and she died.
I know I am not the only person who suffers these loses. I also know I can get back up and fight for the others who still need me. I am not alone, and knowing that gives me strength. My fosters show me their love and appreciation that no one will quite understand unless they have been down this road. Thank you for being the candle that lights my way so it isn’t always so dark and scary and showing me that even though it might be tough, I can make a difference. It’s what I do too.
Bless you for what you do. I am so sorry you too have felt the shattering loss of a feline friend, regardless of how long you shared life together.