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Unread 01-03-2007   #1 (permalink)
baryfan
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Default A hard lesson learned

In the year 200, we had moved to a country house and found a small black cat left behind from the previous tenant. Vowing not to let her inside, we still fed her and eventually she had three kittens outside the front door. Of corse, the next spring, all four "girls' were inside and having four kittens apiece. So, we had a houseful.Suddenly, we had a huge "family". The original kitty became "Mama kitty", who had the three girls...Nerfertiti,Sweetie Pie and Calico Baby(who was a Tortoiseshell).They had Space Baby,Big Guy,Buttons,Munchkin,Squeaker,Muffin, and a few others that we managed to give away. We had a couple of favorites...little Squeaker being one of them and her sister, Munchkin.Both gray little girls, cute as a button.I sang a little song all the time to Squeaker. It was to the tune of "Rubber Ducky", only these were MY lyrics: "Squeaker, beeper, you're the one,
We'll be havin' so much fun with,
Squeaker beeper, she's the only one for me."
And, there were variations on it, too. I took Squeaker outside and laid on the grass with her next to me, tentatively exploring within my sight and not roaming far. She loved the grass and I enjoyed her curiousity. Her high, sueaky little voice let me know she was pleased.
In July that year, the second group was about 4 months old and we came home one Sunday evening, late, to find most of them sluggish and quiet.Little Sueaker came out of the back room, looking terrible...sunken eyes and wobbly legs. She wandered to her kitty litter, but was so wobbly, I knew she needed attention. It was much too late at night, I thought, since it was after 11:00pm and I didn't know much about cats then.We urged her to drink water, thinking she may be dehydrated from the hot weather, but she sat in front of the dish, not drinking. We decided in the morning, she'd go to a vet.
Morning came, and our little Squeaker was still by her water dish with her head drooping. We immediately scooped her up and called a vet, who was 1/2 an hour away. I wrapped her in a towel and my boyfriend drove speedily as Squeaker meowed plaintively as we drove, her little body sluggish and eyes glazing over occasionally. I began to cry and sing to her and by the time we got her to the vet, she was barely responsive. The vet did a quick exam and said she had an upper respiratory infection and sore throat, which is why she couldn't drink or eat. She had gone into shock from dehydration and only had a 50/50 chance of making it. My eyes were like Niagara Falls, as they promised to call us later about her progress. I kissed her little head and told her I loved her and always would. Her other sister, Muchkin, was going the same way as Sueaker, so the vet gave us antibiotic for ALL nine sick kitties, too. When I got home, I wrapped Munchkin in a blanket and laid with her on my stomach on the couch. She got her medicine, as did the others, but she was worse than them. My boyfriend went out to call the vet in a few hours. As I lay with Munchkin, I could have sworn I saw a little shadow flit by my right hand line of vision, and I feared the worse for Squeaker.My boyfriend came in the door and slowly said that little Squeaker had passed away about an hour after we left. We both cried and started walking down a dirt road in the back of the house, although the weather was drizzling. I felt it was my fault, not knowing about cats and "if only's" went rampant thru my head. As I walked, I spotted a stone on the ground with what looked to me to be a "face" on the front of it. I bent over and dug it out of the ground and showed it to my boyfriend. The wet spot of it from the rain had made a little kitty face on it.....two little ears and a mouth...he saw it too, and his jaw dropped. We both knew it was from Squeaker....her way of saying goodbye to us. I cradled the small stone in my hand, but the wet spot dried up and disappeared, but I kept the stone anyway. Munchkin got better after a few days and the other kitties responded almost immediately, too. Little Squeaker had given her life to save the life of the rest of them, including her sister. We got Squeaker's body, wrapped in a garbage bag(I couldn't bear to look inside), and took her to a beautiful gorge with a stream flowing and buried her next to the stream in the woods. She'd always have water that way...and peace and quiet. I know it was her that I saw as a shadow running past me, and it was her in the stone, too. I sang her little song to her one last time at her burial...never to sing it again. But...I enjoy all the short time I spent with her wonderful little soul.


Cheryl
 
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Unread 01-03-2007   #2 (permalink)
wendywenpet
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What a sweet but sad story!!!

If you had read some of my posts about Egor.. she contracted a feline respitory infection while she was in the Humane Society. 2 weeks of meds... touch and go for awhile!! Cats can die within hours once they have this infection. My heart goes out to you... and yes the little ones will definatley benefit. We always learn about our pets and very important for us as owners to do our homework. I never heard about feline infections until Egor contracted it. Get phaphlets from your vets and if accessible... go to the internet.. like this site!!! Very informative.

So sorry for your loss.. but you and your boyfriend keep good faith for the little ones left behind!
 
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