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Wildlife Wednesday – OLD Opossum

Today’s story has a sad ending.  Let me get that right out there.  And yet, I say it’s sad but I’m also grateful.

On Friday evening, Husband and I were in Younger Daughter’s backyard with her and her husband.  We were standing kind of in a circle discussing something.  I just happened to be the one facing south and so I saw it first.  An opossum walked right out of the woods and across Younger’s yard.  I alerted my family members – Oh my gosh. Look!   Everybody turned and there she went – right across the lawn like she didn’t even know we were there.

Younger Daughter went running over to her and very quickly we learned why this opossum hadn’t tried to stay away from us.  She was mostly blind and appeared to be deaf.  Younger ran for a towel and scooped her up as she called her sister.  Older Daughter and her husband arrived a few minutes later to take this old gal home.

 

 

Later, Older Daughter texted me the condition of the opossum.  Older said she was pretty much blind and didn’t appear to hear much.  She was extremely thin and very dehydrated.  She was covered in ticks.  Her teeth were packed with tartar and worn way down.  She was clearly very, very old.  The part that made us all sad was that she was so very thin.  She had been trying to survive, in her condition, for who knows how long.  Older got the ticks off, gave a first round of fluids, and fed her.  She was extremely eager to eat.  That gave Older some hope.  However, this old opossum died sometime during the night.  We talked about it the next day and we were all disappointed.  And yet I’m grateful that at least she died free of ticks, hydrated, fed, and curled up on a cozy blanket.  Her last few hours were the best they’d been in a long while.  Sometimes all you can do is provide comfort.  But providing comfort is giving love.  And isn’t that what it’s all about anyway?

 

Since putting this post together, I learned that Older Daughter took in a baby opossum.  The woman who called said the little thing had been in their yard for “a long time” and they left it alone to see if the mom would come back for it.  At one point their dog picked it up and so they got it and brought it inside.  Most people don’t know that momma opossums don’t come back for their young.  In almost all cases (various wild animals and birds), babies should be left alone in case mom is nearby.  Not so with opossums.  If you find baby opossums, you can go ahead and get them to a rehabber.  However, if they are a pretty good size and fully furred and moving around quite easily, they have reached an age to be able to survive on their own.

This little guy was cold and very dehydrated when Older Daughter took him in.  She said she really doesn’t know if he will make it.  We sure are hoping he survives  . . .   and thrives.

 

the little guy arrives at Wild Angels

 

 

Fingers crossed for this tiny baby.

 

P.S.  The two opossums at Wild Angels that were living in an outdoor enclosure have been successfully released.   Goal met!

 

Two Problems Solved

Do you happen to remember Neo?  Neo was the second “elusive one” to travel through these parts where I live.  When I started writing about Neo, I first reminded you of Theo.  Theo was a cat who was straying in my area in 2017.  It took me six months to finally trap him.   His name derives from his elusiveness – The Elusive One (Theo).   Then a second “elusive one” showed up here in my countryside.  This New Elusive One took the same kind of name – Neo.  I had nearly lost my mind trying to get Theo for those long six months.  Then Neo challenged me in an even greater fashion – his capture took nearly a year.  He was first seen in February of 2021.  I finally got him in December.

Neo was absolutely terrified at first.  He STAYED in a covered litter box with a towel in the bottom and he did not come out except to devour all of the food and water in his cage overnight.  As the weeks ticked by, things did not improve.  Here is an excerpt from a post earlier this year:

When I got Neo in December I was overjoyed.  He went into a cage and I started trying to learn about him.  Unfortunately, I quickly realized that he was not going to come around easily.  He was terrified.  After about three weeks, I knew I was up against an entirely feral cat.  This guy had obviously never had any experience with humans.  At first, he would cower in the back of the covered litter box that I’d made into a hidey-hole for him.  I would watch through a window as he would cautiously ease out and eat his food when he thought I was gone.  He went from hiding from me to trying to scare me away by throwing a paw & claw out at my arm when I would reach in to scoop his box or put in food and water.  When he’d been here for over a month, still nothing was changing.  It was disappointing.  Oh, how I have longed to love on this guy.  But mostly, it was heart-wrenching because I knew how terribly afraid he must be.  I told him that we have all the time in the world.  And I explained to him that by getting him at the beginning of December, he had already missed two snows and three bouts of wind chill temperatures in the single digits.  He was, however, apparently not impressed as he continued to cower and to lash out.

Well, Mr. Neo has made a complete about-face.   I think I wrote a couple of times about how he was beginning to come around.  He eventually decided that I was his friend and he started wanting attention.  I have been able to pet him, even pick him up, for a while now.  He does have a quite annoying habit of biting.  Now just so you know, these are love bites.  There is zero aggression in these bites.  In fact, he seems quite pleased with himself when he manages to get one in.  He slips up and bites the underneath side of my arm when I’m scooping his box or filling his dishes.  He walks right beside me when I carry his bowl to the sink to fill it with water.  He tries to rub on my legs as I walk (makes things quite interesting).  But as soon as I stop walking (upon arrival at the sink), he bites me on the back of the leg.  Every time he bites me he then looks right into my eyes with a proud and loving look on his face.  I can tell that he thinks these bites must certainly be making me very happy.

Now to the first of two problems.  Neo is very young.  He is quite playful.  And ALL of the Winnie’s Wish cats HATE him.  Oh, the trials we’ve had here!  The little stinker will NOT leave the other cats alone.  You can’t blame him.  He’s young and thinks that these other cats must surely want to play.  And play rough he does!  I’ve tried him with several cats and groups of cats here and they all end up sitting high on shelves and cat trees, watching him and trying to stay away from him.  The Winnie’s Wishers are not young cats for the most part.  They are quite content living their middle-aged to old-aged lives.  The couple of younger ones here are happily living with older cats which makes introducing Neo into their group quite impossible.  You know that I have converted dog runs into kitty condos.  I finally recently moved Neo into his own condo and he quite liked it.  He loved his large outdoor living space and I would find him out there very often.

 

 

 But he started begging me to stay in the condo with him when I would be in there cleaning and giving him attention.  And when I simply had to move on to other work, I would hear his toys being swatted around.  My throat would close up as I realized he was just there in his kitty condo playing by himself.   It was heartbreaking.  I knew he needed more.

Now to the second of the two problems.  You know my daughters are the co-managers of the local humane society.  This is “kitten season” so they have been dealing with the onslaught of cats and kittens that come into the shelter this time of year.  Now think about the number of animals that a no-kill shelter can take in - ONLY as many as they can adopt out.  End of story.  There is only so much room in a shelter.  Tons of shelters and animal control facilities across this nation euthanize animals as they fill up so that they can continue to take in.  But in a no-kill shelter there is only so much room and when the place fills up, that’s it – no more can come in.  So no-kill shelters can’t take in “unadoptable” animals.  They have to be able to eventually adopt out every animal that they take in.  Occasionally, however, an unadoptable animal slips in because the staff can’t identify the problem until after the animal has been accepted.  This is the case for semi-feral cats.

Back to Neo.  On the morning that I was walking around with a lump in my throat listening to Neo play with his toys by himself,  I suddenly thought of a possible solution.  I texted Older Daughter – Good morning.  Hey listen.  You wouldn’t happen to have a young, semi-feral cat at the shelter who is never going to get adopted and that you need a place for, do you?    Within a few moments, I got back an answer – YES!

So we texted back and forth.  I explained about Neo and how I knew he was lonely and how none of the Wishers wanted anything to do with him.  Older told me about Lyndon – a young male who had come in and then proceeded to be neither tame nor terribly nice to the other young cats in the room with him.  Older Daughter and I wondered together if maybe Lyndon could move into Neo’s kitty condo with him.  We decided it was worth a try.

I moved Lyndon into a two-shelf cage and set it up right across from the front of Neo’s enclosure. 

 

 

After a couple of days, I started rolling the cage right up against the front of Neo’s condo.  I was SUPER pleased when neither boy went into any hissing fits.   I was also pleased that when I cleaned Lyndon’s cage he did not try to attack me.  He definitely didn’t want me to reach towards him, but he did not act aggressively towards me.  The day finally came when I was ready to try them together.  I opened Neo’s area and rolled Lyndon’s cage into the opening.  Then I opened Lyndon’s cage and he cautiously crept out.  The boys ignored each other for the most part, but that was fine with me.  They weren’t hissing or fighting or chasing.  I told my daughters that the experiment had begun.  We all kept our fingers crossed.

Well, I’m writing today to announce that we have Two Problems Solved.  Neo now has a companion.  He always wanted the other cats to interact with him and they were all VERY much annoyed by this.   And Lyndon, who wasn’t going to be adopted from the shelter, now has a place to live out his life in comfort AND with a companion.  The two have not scuffled a single time that I know of.  They eat right next to each other.  And when I come in first thing in the mornings, they are sitting side-by-side at the front of their kitty condo waiting to be fed. 

 

 

Don’t you love it when things just work out?

 

Wildlife Wednesday – Oh Opossums!

There isn’t a lot to update you on in terms of the wildlife at Wild Angels.  Almost all of the spring and summer babies have either been successfully released or are in outdoor enclosures preparing for their releases.  Here is an updated picture of the two opossums that Older took in at the beginning of her baby wildlife season.  They are doing well, and will be releasable age very soon.

 

 

There is one update that is really nice to be able to share.  Remember the mom opossum who was found in a puddle of blood in the middle of a road?  Older Daughter received this opossum and upon examination discovered that her injuries were to her face, especially her mouth.  Her tongue was cut in several places, and Older eventually discovered that part of the tongue is completely gone.  There was minor trauma to one eye and the sinus cavity on that side of her head.  Older knew that these injuries could heal, but there was one really troubling sign.  The opossum didn’t seem to be able to close her mouth all the way.  This could be inflammation or it could be a broken jaw.

For days, Older had to force-feed this gal.  An adult opossum is not fond of being force-fed.  But the momma needed food to begin her recovery, AND she had babies in her pouch.  The babies were pale and puny.  They definitely needed better nutrition to survive.  When I first wrote about this mom opossum, I was overjoyed to report that it wasn’t long until Older didn’t have to “force” feed.  Momma O started looking forward to feedings and would even reach up to help with the feedings when the syringe contained yogurt. 

 

 

The next stage made Older Daughter very happy.  She knew this opossum had to be able to eat on her own.  The jaw was getting closer to closing all the way.  And then one day, Older held a spoon of food out to Momma O and she licked it off the spoon.  Even with only a partial tongue, Momma O was succeeding in drawing food into her mouth on her own.  The spoon feeding went on for several days and just a couple of days ago Momma O started eating from a dish.  Older still has to make sure the consistency is right, but Momma O is definitely making progress.

 

 

The babies (Older now thinks seven) are looking great!  It’s really a story of success.

 

 

Look at those baby opossum faces!

 

 

And here is a “smile” update.  By now you all know Ms Wobbly Raccoon.  Older feeds her at the edge of her property every day.  About a week ago, as Older got ready to step outside to feed, she opened the main door and had a little surprise waiting on the other side of the storm door.

 

 

Lol I guess Ms Wobbly was a little impatient that day.  SO glad she has a stomping ground so close to Older Daughter’s home.

 

Kitty Litter

Not too long ago when I was writing an email to Andrea (Celestial Kitties; BIG time supporter of Winnie’s Wish),  I shared with her a problem I’ve been having all summer long.  Kitty Litter.    So here’s what has been going on.  I use A LOT of kitty litter!!  A LOT!!  I try to find the most economical way to go but if you’ve ever tried various litters you know that they are NOT all created equal.    One of the kitty litters I’d always used and liked very much was Dr. Elsey’s.   But the price has gone up and up and up.  It finally reached $20 for a 40-lb bag and I just couldn’t afford it anymore.   So I tried another litter.  This one cost only $9 for a 40-lb bag.  I did this last fall or early winter (I can’t remember for sure), and this litter was quite good.  I was ecstatic.  This litter was less than half the price of Dr. Elsey’s.   And it was really holding up.   And then summer hit.  Wow!  I do not know if we are having an outrageously different summer in terms of humidity or if this particular litter just cannot prevail under high humidity conditions. 

In southern Illinois, our summers are hot.  But anybody here in the Midwest will tell you it’s the humidity that makes our summers rough.  However, my kennel cat areas and my cathouse are air conditioned.  Air conditioning reduces humidity.  So I couldn’t believe what a soggy mess my litter boxes were staying.  It simply had to be the humidity.  The only other explanation was that somewhere around late spring, this company changed their litter.  It had done well for me all winter long, but now it was just terrible.  All summer long I’ve had to completely dump the litter boxes every couple of days and fill with fresh litter.  I finally had to admit to myself that I probably wasn’t saving much money using the much less expensive litter if I had to completely replace it every two or three days. 

So this was a conversation I was having with Andrea.    Separate issue - Andrea’s birthday was July 27.  After Andrea received my email complaining about my summer/kitty litter issue, she wrote back to let me know that she had talked to Greg about her birthday gift from him this year.  She said she told him that what she wanted for her birthday was a donation of goods to Winnie’s Wish.  She promised she’d made that decision before she got my soggy kitty litter email.

 

Here’s what you need to know about Andrea.   She’s stubborn!  (Yes, I know you’re reading this, Andrea lol.)  I immediately told her Absolutely not!   I told her to have Greg get her something FOR HER.  She completely ignored me.  And she asked me if kitty litter (the good kind) was what I would want for Winnie’s Wish.  I pleaded again for her to think about getting something she really wanted.  Some of you know Andrea, and some of you reading here might know this about her.  Once she sets her mind to something, you do not change it.  Believe me I’ve known her long enough to know I was fighting a losing battle.  She (lovingly) told me that I could either tell her what Winnie’s Wish needed most, or she would figure it out on her own. 

So . . .      I told her that kitty litter would be amazing.  Trying to keep up with the rising costs and now this chink in my plan to use the less expensive litter was taking a toll.    She asked what else I needed and I told her I was a little low on canned cat food but it wasn’t a big deal. 

Andrea sent SEVEN bags of the Dr. Elsey’s cat litter.  And she sent a case of canned cat food, but then added a case of the special food I have to have to feed Angel AND a case of special skin& stomach canned food that a couple of the cats here are on.  She said – These cats with special dietary needs have to eat, too!  Oh Andrea!  You always have been and continue to be – WONDERFUL to Winnie’s Wish!

 

The note that came with the gift said - "Happy birthday to me! Happy cats make me happy!! From Andrea"

Andrea – THANK YOU.

 

I’ll be back tomorrow with a Wildlife Wednesday update.  See you then.

 

Quinn

I’ve written more than once about the situation that confronts me now.  For years and years, Winnie’s Wish was a rescue/shelter.  I continued to take in cats and kittens that I rescued from homeless situations and gave them “shelter” until I could place them into loving homes.  Then a while back, I had to reassess.  Over the years, there were always “adoptable” kitties being rescued who could eventually move on to permanent homes.  But what was also happening, continuously, was that cats were accumulating here who were feral or semi-feral and who were not being chosen for adoption.   In addition, I had to consider my age.  Rescuing is physically hard work.   I finally made the decision to stop rescuing and transition Winnie’s Wish from rescue/shelter to sanctuary for the 30+ cats who call this place home.

At least a couple of times, I’ve written about one of the emotionally difficult parts of my new role.  I am now caretaker for over thirty cats who will live out their lives here.   I am now dedicated to seeing this large group through to the ends of their lives.   It means that I will go through the deaths of each and every one of these Wishers, in addition to the deaths of our own furry family members.   My goal is to provide the best possible life for these “semi-feral” cats, and then the easiest possible transition for them into the next life.

This past weekend I said goodbye to Winnie’s Wisher Quinn.   

 

 

Quinn was one of the Florida abandoned hotel cats.  I won’t retell the story of our vacations to Florida and how we got caught up in a feral colony at an abandoned hotel there.   But briefly, the angel Cheryl who managed that feral cat colony is the person who got Quinn (and Peter Pan and Tinkerbell) on a transport and ultimately to me.  I had room for three at that time and even though it didn’t put a dent in the colony, life for those three cats changed forever – thanks to Cheryl.  That happened in April 2013.  But VERY strangely, I had seen Quinn the previous year when we were in Florida.  Of course, I couldn’t get close to him, but I commented about how handsome he was from a distance.  Then lo and behold, he was one of the cats who showed up at my transport pick-up spot nearly a year later.

 

 

Quinn was an adult when he came to Winnie’s Wish.  And he was already an adult in the spring of 2012.  When he arrived here, we guessed him at maybe 3 or 4 years old.  So we could say that maybe he was born in 2010.  He could be a 12-year-old cat or he could be a 17-year old cat.  I’ve never known. 

Besides being VERY handsome, Quinn had a great personality.  As is true of all of the current Wisher family, Quinn had a feral start in life.  It took a while for him to warm up to new surroundings and to me.  But he attached himself to a gorgeous little calico girl (named Isis, for her eyes) and he and she have remained bonded for all of these years.  I’ve written about the two of them several times.  In addition to being attached to each other, both of these two were also really great with new cats brought in, especially young ones.   We talked about this pair as the Patriarch and Matriarch of Winnie’s Wish.

 

 

Quinn started showing signs of IBD nearly two years ago.  I tried everything the vets suggested as far as prescription medications.  I also tried everything natural I could find in my research.  He went on special dry and canned food.  There were certain things that seemed to help for a while, but the IBD always came rolling back.  Over the last year or so, Quinn lost a lot of weight.  He still had a healthy appetite and he always seemed to feel great.  This was quite a relief for me.  I knew he wasn’t consistently absorbing the nutrition he needed, but he sure seemed to feel good.  Then a couple of weeks ago, something just seemed a little off about him.  I couldn’t really put my finger on it.  I watched him for a few days thinking his IBD might finally be catching up with him.  But he still seemed happy and he was still eating well for me.  Then one evening he didn’t want his canned food.  That was very much out of character for Quinn.   Last Thursday evening, Quinn refused to eat anything at all.

Allow me a tangent here.  The biggest reason I transitioned Winnie’s Wish from rescue/shelter to sanctuary is because the 30+ cats here now are semi-feral.  They are all very attached to me, but they are terrified of new people and of new situations.  I came to the conclusion that these ones needed to be able to live out their lives here without ever having to adjust to a new home or new people.  THIS would be their home.  These are not cats you can just coax into a carrier.  One of my goals as I take each of these cats through the ends of their lives is to have them die at home if at all possible.  When they are at the end, the last thing I want for them is to force them into a carrier, put them in a car, and subject them to a half-hour drive and then into a veterinary office.  I deeply wish that each Winnie’s Wisher could die peacefully here.  Of course, that just isn’t very likely.  When Momma Monday came to the end of her life, it was because of a rapid onset kidney failure.  I couldn’t allow her to suffer until she died.  And then Rocky, who moved on in April, was suffering from something neurological.   I couldn’t allow him to suffer.

But Quinn died in one of the most peaceful ways I’ve ever experienced.  He slept almost all day on Friday.  I sat with him multiple times throughout that day.  I worried a little that he might pass in the night.  He was still alive on Saturday morning and he slept again all day.  He never seemed to be in pain.  He never struggled.  I visited him multiple times again on Saturday.  And then sometime between 6pm and 8pm, he simply slipped away.  For that – I am deeply grateful.

 

Quinn - Farewell

 

Before I close I want to thank a dear friend for sending a financial gift to Winnie's Wish in memory of his dog, Spike, whom he lost recently.

 

             

JT - THANK YOU.

 

Wildlife Wednesday - Injured Momma Opossum

This post starts off sad but things are improving.  Last week, Older Daughter received a mom opossum with babies in the pouch.  This poor opossum was found sitting in the middle of the road in a pool a blood.  When Older received her, she could see that the injuries were to her face, especially her mouth.  Of course, this adult opossum did not want to be examined by Older Daughter.  Older did the best she could to try to diagnose the problem.  The tongue was cut in several places.  And the opossum held her mouth open.  (Older hoped there wasn’t a broken jaw.)  There appeared to be some minor trauma to one eye and the sinus cavity on that side of her head.   Older also tried to examine the babies.  She thinks there are six total.   They were puny and Older hoped that mom hadn’t been without food for a considerable amount of time.

 

 

 

Older Daughter has been force-feeding this mom, and she did not like it.  But a few days ago, she seemed to change her mind.  She started letting Older Daughter feed her without a struggle.  Then the following day, she let Older pet her and rub her face.  In this picture (below), she still doesn’t look great, but she has definitely improved.  The swelling in the jaw is better and the tongue lacerations are starting to heal. 

With the force-feeding (now being accepted), mom is feeling stronger and the babies are doing better as well. 

 

 

THEN, just before I finished this post, I received some pictures from Older Daughter.  Momma opossum has been living in a very large box with no top on it.  She literally did not move and was certainly not going to climb out because she barely had the strength to hold herself up.  But Momma O is getting stronger and Older found her in the animal room sitting on top of one of the cages in that room.

 

 

Momma O and babies are now settled in a roomy cage with four sides and a top . . .

 

 

And now hear this!!  Momma O has started looking forward to being fed.  She can't manage licking from a bowl yet, but look what she did when offered some yogurt from the feeding syringe.

 

Things are definitely looking up!

 

While on the topic of opossums – there have been two little opossums at Wild Angels since April.  This is what they looked like when they arrived at Wild Angels.  Their body condition was very poor.

 

 

This is what they looked like a couple of weeks ago.

 

 

And here is the female (smaller of the two), out and about in their enclosure. 

 

 

Lookin’ good!

 

Wildlife Wednesday – Successful Release

The work of a wildlife rehabber is something I know I can’t do.  Of course, it’s just plain hard work.  That part I would take on.   (Not so much the up all night feeding part . . .)  But it’s the emotional toll this work takes on the rehabber that is really rough.  Older Daughter takes on all of these babies –  too young to be without a mom.  And some don’t make it.  That’s hard enough.  Then, after investing so much of herself into the survival of each and every baby that comes to Wild Angels, the very goal is to let them go.  She works and works to keep them alive.  She works to move them slowly and carefully through each stage from arrival to release.  And in the course of doing so, she learns about each little individual.  It’s impossible to be oblivious to personality differences and cute characteristics.  It’s impossible to keep yourself from wanting desperately for each tiny furry soul to live.  Even when they’ve moved to outdoor enclosures and Older Daughter is no longer getting up in the night with them to feed and carrying them to and from work with her, there is still an attachment that is impossible to completely shed.  She watches them through the stages of learning.  And then one day – it’s time to be released.  This is such a bittersweet success.  The entire goal is to get these wildlife babies to the place where they can survive on their own.   Yet letting them go means there’s no way to know what happens to them after this. 

Older will definitely tell you that seeing them healthy and prepared for life in the wild outweighs the worry over what will happen to them as they go forward.  And of course, occasionally, one will return with a message to Older Daughter that things are going well.  Those are really nice moments.  (For example, Ms. Wobbly Raccoon has returned year after year.)

This was the year of the baby raccoon.  There were so many babies at Wild Angels that I lost track of who came in when.  But the very first babies to come to Wild Angels last Spring have now been released.  They always hang around for a while.  And there’s always food available for any alumnus that wishes to return for a meal.  These first releases of 2022 are climbing the trees and coming to the community water bowl.  They are rushing over to eat when Older dishes out food each evening.  As so many before them, these ones will slowly move on.  They will move off into the woods and all along the riverbank and find homes of their own.  Success!

 

 

 

 

 

While Older was picking blackberries, she was joined by one of the newly released.

 

 

The two opossums are not ready to be released yet.  They come out and move around in their enclosure during the evening and night.  During the day they stay in their little doghouse.

 

 

And there are still a handful of baby raccoons in Older Daughter’s house.  The youngest ones are still inside (I think that number might be 6) including the last two she received who didn’t even have their eyes open yet.  It will be a while before these two will venture out into an enclosure.

 

 

 

 

Loss

Older Daughter and I spoke daily last week about little Lincoln.  He never had a “great” day; he was mostly up and down.  But mid-week, Older noticed a slight change in him.  He seemed to show a little motivation, talked to Older a little at feeding times, and even batted and played a little with Older’s finger.  I said that maybe we could be cautiously hopeful.  Older said she wouldn’t let her guard down yet – that she’d seen far too many struggling kittens end up not making it.    I thought about all of the kittens who’ve come through my hands over the years.  And all of the kittens (hundreds) who’ve gone through my daughters’ hands at the humane society.  SO many of them survive.  I don’t know the percentages, but the vast majority DO make it.  They get the chance to grow into adult cats and have a good life.  But it’s those that don’t survive that you remember.   

Late Thursday night I texted one last time to Older Daughter, inquiring about Lincoln.  She said he was having a bad evening.  She hoped he would do better the next day.  But then early the next morning, I received a text from Older Daughter that Lincoln was dying.  He hadn’t seemed to feel good in the middle of the night when she saw him, but he’d done this so many times before.  Then on Friday morning, he made a sudden downhill turn.  Older texted that she was going to rush him straight to the vet as soon as she got to work.  But he took his last breaths shortly thereafter.

Lincoln had a really bad start in life.  He had multiple physical malformations.  It’s possible he had internal malformations as well.  I can only say that I am extremely glad that he spent the last days of his very short life in the care of Older Daughter.  Like little Bean who was with Younger Daughter in his last days, Lincoln had love poured onto him.  And that is so much better than what would have happened to either of these kittens if they had not been brought in to the shelter.

On this same morning (Friday morning), I received a text from a very dear friend of mine.  His beloved dog had passed away suddenly that morning.  He has yet to tell me what happened (can’t talk about it quite yet), but we certainly shared our feelings about loss.  He didn’t get to say goodbye.  And the passing was so sudden.  I could absolutely relate.  It’s always extremely difficult to lose a furry family member, but (for me, at least) it’s even harder when you don’t know it’s coming.  My heart broke for my friend.  My heart is still broken over losing Little Roo.

I’m still hoping, in this lifetime, to learn to let go without feeling so devastated.  Animals come into this world; animals go out of this world.  Intellectually, I realize that I am privileged to be a part of each and every one of these animals’ lives.  It is a privilege to get to love, and be loved by, each one.  Death is inevitable.  All we can do is love them while they’re here – no matter if that time is long or short. 

In honor of and in memory of my friend’s dog, Little Roo, Bean, and Lincoln – May I continue to love whole-heartedly and yet learn to let them go freely when their time here is done.   Precious ones who fill our hearts and our lives.   Little sparks of light in fur. 

 

 

 

Two More Kittens in Need

Last week I told you about the two little black kittens that Younger Daughter took home in an attempt to save their lives.  One little kitten (Bean) suffered from Failure to Thrive.  In spite of all of that Younger Daughter did, that one didn’t make it.  But the other tiny kitten (Eden) continues to do well.  As I said last week, it’s usually Older Daughter who fosters the felines and Younger Daughter is there for the canines.   Younger stepped in for this kitten pair for a couple of reasons, the primary one being that her sister is in the middle of wildlife baby season right now.  But just as Younger Daughter took on the round-the-clock feeding of the two little black kittens, another situation presented itself. 

A mother cat was brought in to the shelter with her three kittens, eyes not yet open.  The mom and the kittens were in pretty rough shape upon arrival.  That is not terribly unusual.   There was not really anything else noticeable at first.  But about the time the kittens’ eyes were opening and they started to move around a little on their own, it became clear that this litter had problems that went beyond starvation.  For one thing, the babies were sick.  They were put on the tiniest doses of medication, but they did not respond well, and because they felt so bad, two of the three weren’t nursing enough.  That was what made the decision for Older Daughter to take those two home.  They would need to be syringe fed to assure that they were getting enough nutrition.  But in addition to being sick, all three kittens suffered from malformations of one sort or another.  The strongest one (orange-and-white female who did not go home with Older) has some type of hip displacement.  She is now walking and seems to be doing fine with the issue but will be monitored as she grows.  The vet (who believes each of these kittens might need corrections in the future) has said they are not old enough or strong enough to work on at this point.  A second kitten (also an orange-and-white female) has an eyelid condition such that the lids are turned inward and so the eyelashes rub the eye.  Sometimes a kitten will outgrow this, but sometimes it requires surgery later on.    Finally, the third kitten (an orange male) ended up with several issues.  Like one of his sisters, he has something wrong with his hips.  He has a severe overbite.  One of his ears is partially missing (it’s not terribly noticeable, it just looks like it didn’t finish growing).  He also has the eyelid problem but not as severe as his sister; however, he also has one eye that ruptured at some point and he will never see out of it.  It might have to be removed in the future.  Poor dear.

 

 

So when the two weren’t nursing enough to keep up their strength, Older took them home.  It’s been about a week, and a couple of days ago, the little female went back to the shelter.  She was definitely stronger and definitely growing.  So far that decision has been a success – she is now nursing right beside her sister and it looks like she’s going to make it.  (Of course, with the caveat that we all know – a kitten can turn on a dime and go downhill fast.  But we’re keeping our fingers crossed.)

 

(The little girl looks even better now and is back with mom.)

 

 

As Older Daughter syringe fed these two kittens over the days and nights, she got to know them.  She could tell the little girl was stronger and she knew this one might make it.  But the little boy had SO many issues.  He was also very difficult to syringe feed.  The overbite seemed to make the feedings very difficult for him.  Older struggled and struggled to keep this little guy fed, but it wasn’t going well.  After a few days, when the sister seemed to be improving, this guy would just lie around.  He wasn’t interested in much and he seemed to feel bad all the time.

 

Older bathed his eyes daily, but with the eye issues they continued to look bad.

 

 

Older Daughter texted me more than once to say how much she wished this little guy would make it.  She said – I’m completely in love with him.  He has so many issues and he feels bad all the time.  I want him to make it so bad.  I want him to get stronger and feel good and play.   She decided to name him since he’d been with her so many days with no end in sight.  His name is Lincoln.

In the past couple of days, Lincoln seems to be doing a TINY bit better.  We’re all afraid to get our hopes up, especially Older Daughter.

 

 

If Lincoln survives, he has many challenges awaiting him.  He may always have trouble eating.  He will only have one seeing eye.  His eyelid malformation will need surgery unless he outgrows this condition.  And we have no idea about his hips.  We are all hoping that little Lincoln will survive; and not just survive, but begin to feel better to the point of wanting to play.  Wouldn’t that be a celebration!

 

napping with Older Daughter

 

Fingers crossed.

 

 

To Be and Not To Be

I’ve been writing on Wednesdays for “Wildlife Wednesday,” but it’s been quite a while since I wrote a Tuesday post about the NON-wildlife around here.  It’s been really hard to write ever since losing Little Roo in such a traumatic way.  I only continued to write about Older Daughter’s wildlife (on Wednesdays) because she is in the thick of her busiest season, and those stories need to be told.   Today I have a sweet (and one part sad) story.  It involves two VERY tiny kittens.  I’m going to say right up front that one did not make it.  I don’t want you reading along, hoping for something that wasn’t to be.  But this little guy got to know love before he moved on.  And it looks like the other little kitten now has her very own home.

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and a friend went to play golf.  He hadn’t been gone long when it started raining here at home.  His golf game was about half an hour away, so I texted and asked if the rain had hit there and ruined his game.  He said it wasn’t raining yet but it looked like it might.  About that time, it absolutely unloaded here.  Hard rain, big wind.   About half an hour later he texted – Well it’s here now.  It’s raining so hard that we are stuffed into the golf cart shed trying to wait it out.  And then only a few minutes after that text, I got this text (only a picture) –

 

I immediately called him.  He said that he and his friend (M) were sitting in the golf shed and suddenly this tiny little dot of a kitten pushed into the shed through a very small opening.  It was soaked with fur dripping wet, and it scrambled through the hole and sat down.  And there she was. 

So now the dilemma.  The shelter where my daughters work is the obvious option.  But they are currently overrun with kittens, and people are on long lists waiting to bring kittens as space becomes available.  So that wasn’t going to be a possibility for at least a long while.  In the meantime, Husband and M were sitting crammed into a small golf cart shed with the tiniest kitten on the planet.  I told Husband to NOT set that kitten down for even one second.  Clearly, she was not old enough to be on her own.  I couldn’t get over how tiny she was and I couldn’t figure out how she was surviving on her own at that age.  Also – what were the chances that this tiny baby pushed into the very shed that MY husband was sitting in.  He wouldn’t have even been in there if it hadn’t been raining heavily.  And my guess is that’s exactly what this little baby was doing – getting out of that hard rain.  So as fate would have it, this baby was saved.

The golf course is only about ten minutes from the Humane Society where our daughters work.  I alerted Younger Daughter that her dad would be dropping off this kitten and then we’d figure out what to do with it.  Older Daughter certainly couldn’t take it with the enormous load she was already carrying (baby wildlife season).  It would have to be either me or Younger Daughter.  As Younger and I were talking, she said she would just go ahead and take her for the first few days anyway because she had a critical situation of her own with a kitten at the shelter.

 

Younger Daughter sent me these pictures of the little golf shed kitten as soon as Husband delivered her.

 

 

 

There was a particular litter of kittens (at the shelter) which included one that wasn’t doing very well.  He didn’t seem to be growing like his littermates.  And that very morning, when Younger Daughter got to work, she found this one in the midst of a low blood sugar spell.  So weak he couldn’t stand, just lying on his side in the cage with the mom and siblings.  Younger Daughter immediately started doing the things you have to do for this condition – sugar water, heating pad, etc.  The little guy was starting to come around a little but it just wouldn’t be safe to leave him in with his family.  My daughters had been watching him for a couple of days, worrying that he wasn’t growing as he should be.  It’s hard to know if everybody is getting to nurse as much as they need to.  And also, sometimes there are litters from which one (or more) simply fail.  So now that this little guy had had this spell, Younger’s plan was to take him home with her to foster for a few days so that she could feed him a/d and formula and try to build him up some.

 

The shelter kitten after a bit of a/d canned food.

 

I received a text from Younger Daughter that evening.  The little golf shed kitten was extremely young.  Younger would have to syringe feed her.  And the little kitten from the shelter was coming around, seeming to feel better.  Younger would be syringe feeding him, too, because he was used to nursing from mom and had not been joining his littermates as they learned to eat from a dish.  For the next few days, Younger fed these two tiny dots of kittens every few hours, including getting up in the middle of the night.  (She said she got a dose of what her sister does every night all throughout wildlife baby season.)  She said even though the two kittens were about the same size, the little male from the shelter was older by at least a week.  He was so tiny because he was failing to grow.  But Younger hoped that the supplemental nutrition would keep him going. 

Another fateful occurrence in this story is that both of these two kittens were black.  I don’t know if you remember this (I’ve written about it before), but all of Younger Daughter’s cats are black.  She has always adopted black cats only.  She has fostered cats that were not black, but her own family of cats is all black.  Younger mentioned a couple of times that fostering these two kittens was going to be rough – it would be hard to let them go when (or if) they got old enough/strong enough to go back to the shelter.

 

 

The little shelter kitten was being called “Bean” by the shelter workers.   And Younger Daughter named the little golf shed kitten “Eden.”   Eden was doing really well, but little Bean was up and down.   The worst thing was that he was getting plenty of nutrition now, no more low blood sugar episodes, but he still wasn’t growing.  You have probably heard of Failure to Thrive in kittens. I’ve written about it here on the blog.  The vet visit doesn't turn up any diagnosis.  It's a wait and see nightmare. Everybody was afraid that little Bean might succumb to this disorder.  So Younger Daughter made sure he had as much love and fun packed into his days with her as possible.  On the days that he felt better, he would play and even purr sometimes.   I visited one evening and watched little Bean playing.  WHAT a cutie!  He got held a lot, played with, fed good nutritious food.  But it just was not to be.   After a slightly worse 12-hour period of time, he slipped away about midnight one night.  Younger was very sad.  She said she’d been telling little Bean that if he would just survive he could live with her.  We had our usual conversation – why should such a tiny baby die before he had the chance to live.  And then I reminded Younger that because of being with her, little Bean DID have some Life – some GOOD life.

 

 

Younger Daughter has Bean buried in her own pet cemetery.  She orders a special marker for every animal she buries there.  Even though Bean was a shelter kitten, a foster kitten, barely in Younger's life for any time at all, he has a spot and a marker and flowers forever.

Little Eden is doing extremely well.  We all know that a kitten that young can turn on a dime and go downhill.  But as of right now, we are all hopeful.  We don’t have to put little Eden on one of the lists at the shelter to be taken when space opens up.  Younger Daughter will not be giving little Eden up.  Eden has a home.  And she is loved!

 

 

 

Younger Daughter is usually the DOG foster person and Older Daughter usually fosters the needy CATS.  In this case, however, it seemed only logical that Younger Daughter would take these two kittens home (temporarily) since it so oddly occurred that two tiny black kittens needed her on exactly the same day.   The main reason she took them home, however, was because her sister, Older Daughter, was too overwhelmed with wildlife to have the time to care for these feline babies.  Then, another kitten emergency occurred  . . .     and this time Older Daughter took them home.  That story next week.