So we are well into kitten season this year and almost all of this litter are already settled into their forever homes, but as my first fosters under the rescue of Pet Pantry of Lancaster County I wanted to share their story with you all. I will save my rants about the horrors of kitten season for another post when I am fueled by the rage that I feel about it a little more fully. Until then let me tell you about my foster fur kids.
This year I have taken in a lot of single cats to foster. You know, ones that need a bit more one on one time. Usually, though, I have multiple litters throughout kitten season so I assign myself a letter, working through the alphabet, for their names to start with. This litter consisted of 5 kittens, 4 boys, and 1 girl.
Their names were Adderick, Avery, Arlo, Adrielle, and Alistair.
They had come to us as a surrender from someone who looks after a feral colony. They are working to TNR (Trap/Neuter/Release) the adults in the colony, but the kittens they try to socialize and find homes for. Alistair had some eye issues but aside from that, they appeared to be healthy. These kittens weren't feral but were definitely not used to people when they first came in. They were about 8 weeks old and skittish. It wasn't long before they started to come around and trust us.
Shortly into their stay, they began to have issues though. Arlo was the only one who remained healthy through the whole ordeal. Everyone else began to vomit. They stopped eating. They had very loose stool.
Let me pause here for a moment to tell you that kittens do not have strong immune systems. They have to build them up. Their tolerance is lowered further when they are stressed. It is very easy for viruses to be passed and picked up. Even if they had been exposed prior to coming into rescue, all it takes is that lowered immune system for the disease to make its way in and wreak havoc.
In the 3 years or so that I have fostered, I have seen my share of viruses come through my house. Unfortunately, one of them was Panleukopenia. I saw first hand how that horrid virus kills off defenseless kittens without a second thought. I was terrified that this was another case of distemper. They had only just gotten their first vaccine for it after all. The first time that I met face to face with this virus it almost broke me. I was ready to not only quit fostering, but to give up rescue work for good. With a bad start to the year for my personal cats, I was not ready to handle so many more premature deaths.
It truly is funny to me that people think the hardest part of fostering is having to give them up. To me, it is a true blessing to see them go to a home of their own and be loved. The feeling that I get when we get photos and updates on them makes my heart swell with pride. There is always a feeling of sadness making them leave our home of course. They make themselves comfortable here; but truly, there are much worse outcomes than the sad ride into the rescue on adoption day and they happen more often than most people realize. Of course, it doesn't help that I have a soft spot for the tough cases. Either way I long for a foster where the hardest thing I have to go through with them is giving them back to find their forever home.
Anyway, I took Alistair to the vet the next day as he was hit first and hardest by whatever this was. I chewed my nails anxiously waiting for the Panleuk test results to come back. Words cannot describe the relief that I felt to see that it was negative. After some anti-vomit meds were administered, I was good to begin force feeding to get their appetites back up.
It didn't take long for almost everyone to start eating again. It seemed like it was just a passing stomach virus after all. Alistair was proving to be a special case though. He did not want to eat. After force feeding and using a high-calorie supplement for a week, we made another trip to the vet. He had lost weight and was losing muscle mass. I was very concerned. Our vet gave some fluids and told me to give him more as needed. He couldn't find anything glaringly wrong and wanted to give him a few more days. He was active, he wanted to play, he was just a bit weak.
I sat down with Alistair that night. I told him that if he wanted to get better than he needed to meet me half way. I couldn't just keep force feeding him. He hated it, and I hated making him. Two days later wouldn't you know that the cat started to eat! I cried tears of happiness.
We continued the high-calorie supplement, but Alistair started to have other issues. He was still weak. He was eating, but he wobbled and couldn't wrestle with the others. It became apparent that he didn't see very well and his eye began to swell. About 2 weeks ago I took them all in to be spayed and neutered. Alistair was still underweight so it wasn't safe to put him under anesthesia, he also would need his eye removed which would make the surgery longer. I left the others to find forever while he and I came back home. We spent quite a bit of time one on one. We cuddled and purred. He was put on antibiotics to try to help his eye as much as possible.
Alistair never did gain weight. He slowly stopped eating again. He became even weaker. I took him to the vet again knowing it would probably be for the last time. He gave me some last ditch suggestions. Aggressive fluids and vitamins, more force feeding, bloodwork. He became exhausted from fighting us drawing the blood and just laid down. We hadn't even drawn enough to run the tests. At that point, we knew it was past time and that the kindest thing was to let this poor boy pass.
It is my own preference to not let them be alone during euthanasia. I refuse to let them move on alone. They were never alone. They always have a home with me. So I stayed with him, I petted him, I held him, and I didn't leave when they told me his veins were so bad that they would have to do it directly into his heart.
It is so hard to watch. So many people cannot bear to be there to watch their best friend pass. I feel we owe it to them. We need to be there for them right to the end. Especially since they are in an unfamiliar and scary place. No matter how hard it is on us, I am sure it is so much harder on them. I won't let them do it alone.
Maybe that stems from the fact that I did chicken out on my cats growing up. I hated death and ignorance was my bliss. I feel I owe it to all these, even ones that aren't my own, to be by their side to the end. Because I wasn't for my babies past. They deserve to know that I have learned to be a better person for my mistakes. I like to think it would make them happy.
So it is with that that my first foster litter of 2017 has left me. Adrielle is still waiting for her forever home, but all three boys have been adopted and I believe even she has an application in for her. Alistair waits for me at Rainbow Bridge. At least I know he is in good company there.
Adderick:
This little man stole my heart. He favored my fiance. He sat on the cat tree between our desks every night and quietly waited for us to pet him. He took that as an invitation to migrate to our laps, or my fiance's shoulder, where he would purr and purr until it was time for bed. He was the first one to find a home.
Avery, Alistair, Arlo, and Adderick
This was their first night here. They were still nervous and all cuddled together. Adrielle was actually cowering behind the bed. You can see part of her face in the upper part of this photo.
Avery, Adrielle, Alistair, and Adderick
This photo you can see they are a bit more relaxed, especially Adderick! This was just a few short days after they arrived. Even Adrielle came out of hiding!
Arlo
The bravest of the bunch, Arlo was always getting into trouble. He was the first to escape the playpen, the first to meet my dog, and the first to discover that laps are the best place to be!
Alistair
This is the last picture I took of Alistair. It was the night that he started to eat again. I don't like to do photos of them in their rough times unless it is for a purpose. I would rather celebrate their growth and victories. That is what this photo was for Alistair.