Two down, one to go

Well, all three kittens were spayed and neutered on Friday, and invited to the adoption center on Sunday.  Three young teen volunteers helped me unload them from their carrier and put them in a spacious cage.  The word "cage" hardly does it justice; the new adoption center facilities at PetSmart are excellent, with plexiglas fronts for optimum viewing, and climbing structures with hiding nooks to help frightened cats feel safer.  It was lined with soft towels and beds and full of awesome toys.  The kittens made themselves right at home, exploring the nooks and crannies and sampling the toys.  The volunteers were impressed with how relaxed and friendly they were.

Sometimes it takes weeks or even months to adopt out a foster, but within 3 hours, I got a call from the adoption site manager to tell me Biggie was being adopted.  Liz picked the kittens up after their 4 hour stay at the center, and when she came home I said, "One down, two to go!" and she replied "Uhh, actually, it's two down and one to go."  Poor Piglet was all alone in the carrier.  When Liz arrived to pick them up, Bitsy was being adopted.  They had considered Piglet, but with a young child, they were concerned about his biting.  They probably made the right choice.  Until he gets past this bitey phase, he's a bad fit for a home with children.

Shortly after he came home, I took this picture of Piglet looking wistfully out the front door, for all the world as if he was looking for his missing foster sisters.  We miss them, too, but we're so happy they found forever homes.

The Bitey Phase

Mr. Piglet has entered a regrettable, but all too common, "bitey phase".  Most kittens go through this phase, but some are worse than others, and Piglet is pretty bad.  Any time his face is anywhere near one of my hands, he grabs it and starts gnawing.  One strategy for dealing with this problem is redirection.  I flip him over onto his back and stick his own hind paws or his tail in his face.  He will usually bite them for a while.

Today, when he finally bored of his own toes and tail, I picked him up and stuck him in Darby's face, which diverted him for a while.  Here you can see him gnawing on one of Darby's lips like a piece of bubble gum.  (Don't worry, she likes it.)

Ewww, interspecies tongue kissing!!

Piglet's Progress and Introducing Biggie and Bitsy

Well, Piglet is officially a "real" kitten now: he tears around the house like a wild thing, pounces on toys, and bites my fingers way too hard.  His wish for cat-friends has also come true, although they have taken a few days to warm up to him.  All day yesterday he followed them around like a lonely puppy, but if he got too close or tried to touch them, they growled.  Today they are playing with him more comfortably, and letting him cuddle up a bit.  He's making friends with Darby, and even grumpy old Auntie Fiona washed his head and held paws with him today.

 

Biggie and Bitsy are sisters that were dumped out in the desert.  They are close to Piglet in age, about 12 weeks, and in excellent health.  They are also extremely friendly and well-socialized.  Who raises such friendly, gorgeous kittens and then abandons them to possible starvation or violent death by coyote??  I'll never understand it.

 Biggie is bold and confident; as soon as I let her out of the kitty condo, she marched around the house like she owned it.  Bitsy spent her whole first day hiding in the condo, although every time I peeked in at her, she'd greet me with a tremendously loud purr.  She came out in the evening, though, and today she's making up for lost time, exploring every corner of the house.  The "catio" was an especially big hit with the sisters.

Piglet's explosions at both ends

Piglet had an unusual roman nose, or so I thought.  By the fifth day, his diarrhea had cleared up nicely, but he seemed uncomfortable and his eyes were runny, so I soaked a washcloth in warm water and tried to wipe them clean.  He reacted strongly, pulling away from the rag; some kittens just hate to have their faces washed, so I got a firmer grip on him and proceeded to gently wipe his eyes.  Suddenly, a stream of bloody pus shot from his face!  I was so stunned, it took me a minute to process what I was seeing.  Finally I realized: that's not a roman nose, that's an abscess above his nose and between his eyes, and it just popped!

Abscesses are common in cats; another cat's claw or tooth pierces their skin, the tiny wound closes up too quickly, and bacteria grow wild.  But an abscess right between the eyes is nothing to mess with.  Left untreated, a facial abscess can spread into the eye orbits and even penetrate to the brain.  I requested and was authorized to make an urgent care vet visit.  The vet confirmed that he was feverish but otherwise stable, and the abscess appeared to be superficial.  Her recommended treatment was warm wet compresses to help it drain, and an antibiotic.  24 hours later, it's amazing how much better he feels.  The cheesy-smelling ooze from the lesions above his nose has almost completely dried up.  He was terribly lonely in the kitty condo without his brother, so I've been letting him explore the house and (try to) make friends with my old, grumpy cats and my slightly over-enthusiastic dog.  He found a sunbeam on my desk to sleep in for a while, and spent a lot of time in my lap.

In fact, a couple of nights ago he gave me an experience I've never had before, and would be glad to never repeat: he was sleeping on my chest, and when he stood up, his hind end was in direct line with my left nostril, about an inch away.  Before I could move him, he ripped an audible fart just as I was breathing in.  I felt the wind of that fart hit my nostril and suck right down into my lung.  It wasn't as foul-smelling as I expected, but it was a bit of a shock.  I think it means we're bonded for life, nostril to asshole.

Very shortly after this incident, I saw him play for the first time.  I'm sewing a braided rag rug, and he tentatively batted at the hanging braid.  It made me very happy.  I'm sure I'll be less happy the day I find him climbing the curtains.

Here's a picture of him playing with a string.  You can see how well the wounds are healing where the abscess drained.

Pooh Bear's passing

When Helen gave me these kittens to foster, she said she was concerned about the orange kitten (Pooh Bear), and her concern was not misplaced.  He was a bag of bones, nearly half the weight of his brother.  Whereas his brother Piglet had a decent appetite and ate up his bit of canned food with medicine mixed in, Pooh bear lapped at the liquid but ate very little.  He was weak, and did not play or purr.  He mostly slept.  At first he was wary of us, his human foster parents, but soon he seemed to enjoy his chin-scratches and petting.  I was delighted when, a few days in, he approached Liz with his tail raised in the feline signal for "Hi, friend" and rubbed his body against her leg affectionately.  "He loves us!"

What gave me hope for Pooh Bear was the quality of his eyes.  Sick cats often leave their eyes half-closed, avoiding eye contact.  Their eyes appear dull or distant.  Sometimes the inner eyelid begins to close half-way over the eye.  Sometimes, you can see their fear or their pain.  Pooh bear had none of these signs.  He met my gaze with a deep, placid regard, eyes clear and bright with recognition of my being, inviting me to recognize his own spark of being.

But like Helen, from the very beginning I was worried.  It was the weakness, the lassitude of his muscles.  The roundworms and whatever else he'd been through to reach such an emaciated state had sapped his strength.  When he broke with symptoms of an upper respiratory infection the day after he arrived, a worm of worry squeezed my gut.  I feared he wouldn't have the strength to overcome the infection, and would be overwhelmed.  After 5 days of medicine, supplemental feeding, gentle cuddles, and lots of rest, he was not improving.  Sunday afternoon he lapped up the liquid from his canned food, and even ate a few kibbles.  When he was done, I lay back on a dog bed and placed him on my chest for cuddles.  He lay exactly where I put him, completely limp.  I couldn't feel his breathing or his heartbeat or the heat from his body, so tentative was his presence.  At that moment I knew he would be leaving soon, and I held him and wept.  I put him to bed with his brother and they curled up tight together.

He was gone in the morning, still entangled with his sleeping brother.  He passed peacefully, surrounded by warmth and love.  Liz, teary-eyed, said she had been planning to take his picture and post it on Facebook with the message, "Don't tell Maureen, but we're keeping him."  In the 5 days we had him, he stole our hearts.  Good bye, Pooh Bear.  We love you.

Fostering Again: Pooh Bear and Piglet

After a long hiatus, I am fostering kittens once again.  It was not an easy transition back into the world of animal rescue.

Helen brought me two 11 week old kittens from PACC.  The larger black kitten (Piglet) had gone into foster care briefly, but his diarrhea was diagnosed as roundworms and the fosters sent him right back.  FAIR loaned me a "kitty condo", a large cage suitable for a couple of small kittens while they heal from anything infectious, so I agreed to take them.  This is their PACC picture:

They were dirty and smelly and both had diarrhea. I will tell you more about them later.