Saturday, October 28, 2006, 02:43
And Now There's One. . .
When I went down to the barn Friday morning, there was only one kitten on the heating pad in the nest. I looked and looked for the other kitten, but I couldn't find it. I figured it had either died and the mother had pushed it out of the nest down into the hay or she had moved it. Either way, I didn't stand any chance of finding it.
I picked up the little kitten that was lying in the nest, and it was so weak, it was almost gone. It felt cold to the touch and wasn't moving at all.
I carried it up to the house and put it on the heating pad.
And the wait began.
Gradually the little baby began to warm up and as she warmed up more, she was able to move around more.
After an hour, she started yelling.
I figured that once she was yelling it was time to see if she would eat some kitten formula.
I managed to get a few drops down her and then I put her back on the heating pad to rest.
And that's what I've been doing all day. Giving her a few drops of formula. Letting her rest. Few drops of formula. Rest. Formula. Rest. Formula.
That's the good news.
Around 11:30 Friday morning, I remembered I had not yet taken Charlie for a walk around the hayfield. The horses had barely gotten fed and watered in the morning, much less Charlie getting out for a walk.
Charlie and I went around the hayfield, and when I got back to the barn, I figured I might as well unplug the heating pad. What was the use of leaving the heating pad plugged in if all the kittens were gone?
I peeked into the nest. And there was the other kitten. The mother must have brought it back.
If I thought the first one seemed lifeless, this one was really bad. I brought him up to the house and put him on the heating pad next to the other one. I was pretty sure it was dead. But not completely sure.
After an hour, when I touched the second one, he moved. There was indeed a spark of life there yet.
The second kitten continued to improve for several hours and started to move around a bit. It still wasn't out of the woods enough yet to swallow. I knew if it could only hang on until it was warmed up enough and got strong enough to swallow, it might have a chance.
The first kitten was so happy to discover her sibling. She crawled up close and snuggled down, bless her little heart. I thought maybe having another kitten close by might give the second one a little more of a reason to hang on.
I went back to check on the kittens at one point -- and discovered that the second kitten had died.
A few minutes earlier it was alive and moving.
And then just like that -- it was dead.
The poor little fellow was just too far gone , I think, when I found him. I wish he had still been in the nest when I found the first one because I think he would have had a better chance.
The first kitten seems to be hanging in there so far. When I take her out to see if I can get a few more drops of formula down her, she roots around in my sweatshirt, looking for something she can nurse. She isn't thrilled about the eyedropper. But she will swallow if I can get a drop in her mouth.
I'm thinking I will have to keep trying to get a few drops down her every hour or every two hours until she gets somewhat stronger. It looks to me that even though the kitten is three days old, she has not grown much at all.
I'm not sure any of the kittens nursed much. Usually a nursing mother cat drinks quite a bit of water, but the momma cat has not been drinking hardly anything out of their cup in the barn. I'm thinking that what happened is they were just too cold to begin with right away when they were born and never did get to nurse really well. And then it was a spiral downhill from there. Too cold to nurse. Not getting enough nutrients. Growing weaker from not enough to eat and too cold. Until finally the two gray kittens died yesterday. And the other two were still to weak to nurse much, even with a heating pad in the nest.
At one point Friday afternoon, I took the remaining kitten to the barn to see if I could find Little Sister. I thought maybe she would let her nurse a little bit. If she did, then I was going to take her back to the house.
I couldn't find Little Sister. She is devastated, I'm sure, not to have any of her kittens. I might not see her for a while after this.
When I found the first kitten Friday morning, I held her up to Little Sister, but she was so far gone at that point, the mother wasn't interested in the kitten one bit.
And so, here I am again. A kitty momma. If the little baby hangs on over the weekend, she might have a chance. This weekend I will be able to give her a few drops every hour or so. I'm hoping she is improved enough by Monday that I can go a few hours between feedings. I will have lots of newspaper work to do on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, and I won't be able to feed her as often. If this was "normal" circumstances, she would be fine going for a few hours without food. But this is far from normal.
Every once in a while, I find myself thinking, "This is crazy. Don't you think there are enough cats in the world already?"
The only problem is -- there's a spark of life there yet. And as long as there is a spark of life that has been entrusted to my care, I feel like I have to try. . .
Update-- After Randy got home from work this evening, I tried to feed the little kitten. She was vigorously rooting in my sweatshirt but did not want much from the dropper. We took her down to the barn -- and there was Little Sister!
I don't know if I have ever seen a happier cat. It was as if she could not believe her eyes. She hopped up on the hay and went down in the nest. I put the kitten in with her and turned on the heating pad again. The kitten started to nurse and Little Sister started to groom her baby. We left them together while we fed the horses and took the dogs for a walk. When we came back, we went down to check on the kitten. I could hear her yelling before I got to the barn. The old mother cat had brought a mouse in the barn and Little Sister and her mother were chasing the mouse. We figured maybe we should bring the kitten back up to the house so she wouldn't end up too cold again without her mother in the nest.
This is going to be difficult, knowing what is the best to do for everyone involved. I want the baby to be with her mother, if she can be. I don't know if Little Sister has any milk -- or much milk -- or some milk. Maybe that was the problem to begin with. The baby is periodically yelling in her box. She's not settling down very well, as she would if she had a full tummy.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Friday, October 27, 2006, 04:46
A Bad Day Here At Rural Route 2
I feel terrible.
Thursday morning when I went down to the barn to feed the horses, I checked on momma and the four kittens, and all four kittens were fine.
When I went down to the barn Thursday evening, two of the kittens were dead. The two little gray kittens.
They had not been dead long because they were still warm. Little Sister had left the nest to get some kitty food. I peeked in the nest and saw that the black kittens were moving around. The gray kittens were not. I reached into the nest and pulled them out. I hoped -- against all hope -- there was still a spark of life there. I cradled them in my hands for the longest time. But they were gone.
Poor little babies. Poor, poor little babies.
When Randy came home from work, I was still cradling the kittens in my hands, and of course -- I was crying.
My husband, good man that he is -- and also being male -- did what all men do in such situations. He immediately went into "problem solving mode."
"What if we run an extension cord from the house and put a heating pad in the nest?" he said.
I thought about it for a moment.
"That could work," I said. "It won't help the poor little gray kittens. But it might help the other two."
I honestly don't know if it got too cold for them or if the mother cat laid on them and smothered them.
I really doubt that Little Sister smothered them, though. Earlier this spring, there were 9 kittens and two mother cats in one tiny nest about half the size of this nest and they were all fine. What I think happened is -- I think the gray kittens were not as vigorous as the two black kittens. From the beginning they didn't seem to move around as much or meow as much. Which should have told me something. But it didn't.
I took the two tiny gray kittens up to the house and found a small box to put them in. I lined the box with Kleenex and covered the poor babies with Kleenex (well, actually, it was Puffs Plus; that's all I use for my tender nose, which gets wiped regularly, what with ragweed pollen around and now mold spores).
Then I went about finding the heating pad. When Sophie was a baby last year, we bought a new heating pad. We already had one heating pad, but my back was bothering me then, so I used one heating pad and Sophie used the other one.
The 'new' heating pad is one of those that shuts off by itself after an hour. I figured that would be a good one to use so that the momma and kittens don't get too warm. If I turn the heating pad on every few hours, it will help the kittens stay warmer so they don't have to use so many of their calories to stay warm on their own and can use their calories for growing.
I found the heating pad. In the meantime, Randy got out the extension cords. By this time it was dark out so we worked by flashlight.
Randy strung the extension cords down to the barn while I put the heating pad in the nest.
Little Sister knew something had happened -- knew that two of her babies were dead -- and was uneasy about the commotion in the barn. She watched from the shelf where I put out kitty food for them but wouldn't come any closer.
I carefully put the heating pad down in the nest, put a towel over the pad, put the kittens on top of the towel and turned on the heating pad.
"Let's just leave her alone for a while and see what she does," I said.
I had no way of knowing whether Little Sister would object to heating pad in her nest.
In the meantime, we went up to the house and got the box with the kittens.
My husband, after a long day at work, and in the dark, working by flashlight, dug a hole behind the barn so we could give the little ones a proper burial.
When we were finished, by which time, of course, I was crying again, we went back in the barn. I shined the flashlight down into the nest. Little Sister was curled up there with her kittens, looking happy and squinty-eyed.
So far, so good.
Several times this evening we turned the heating pad on again after it shut itself off. And several times I checked in the nest. Momma and babies seemed to be fine.
I wish I had put the heating pad in the nest to begin with. I have no way of knowing whether it would have helped the gray kittens, though.
I do know that if we didn't put the heating pad in there now and the black kittens died, it would bother me for a long time.
This way, if the black kittens don't make it even with the heating pad, I won't have to wonder if it would have made a difference if we had put a heating pad in the nest.
Now the only thing is -- for the next four weeks, I am going to have to remember to turn the heating pad on every couple of hours.
I know there are many people in the world who would say, "What's wrong with her? It's only kittens, for crying out loud."
True. But they're here. They're alive. And I would like to try to help them if I can. And I'd like to help Little Sister, too. Cats *do* go through a grieving process when they lose their babies.
LeAnn R. Ralph