Friday, July 25, 2008

And then there were 4...

It's a sad day here today. We lost Noah yesterday.
I took him to the vet, as he was very lethargic, and not eating, and he was anemic.
He never came back home with me.

This is the hard part of fostering. Yeah, I have been up in the middle of the night, bottle feeding babies, sitting in a steamy bathroom, trying to help clear up extremely congested itty bitty kitty heads, and I have scrubbed poop off of floors. None of that is hard compared to losing one of my little charges.

I will continue to foster kittens anyway. Why? Because there are still 4 kittens here that need the help. And there will me more waiting to come here when these guys go back and get adopted. I always try to look at the positive aspect of this "job." I have fostered over 80 kittens in the last 3 and a half years, and all of them were adopted except for the 12 that never made it that far, one that was mysteriously stricken with some illness, and was lost after she was put on view, and one that had a heart defect, and died at one year old.

These are their photos.

More photos in rememberance

Of course the first kitten here is Noah.

The adult cat and the little orange kitten are the same. LT was adopted by my friend Deb, and he ended up having a heart problem. He died at a year old.

The black and white kitten is Bernie Mac. (AKA Gizmo) He was already spoken for, and was ready to go back the very next day when he started having balance problems, and his eyes were vibrating. He had some neurological problem. He never made it back home either.

In the photos on the previous post, we have Sloth, and Mole. They were the last of the kittens of Shanna. She had 5, but one never even made it here. The other two, I am looking for photos, were only here for a day or 2 before they were so sick, they had to be put to sleep. Mole and Sloth went a few days later. Shanna, their mother, made it, and was a wonderful cat.

The puddle of tabby cats were Sandy's babies. I can't tell who is who, but 3 of these kittens didn't make it. Sandy didn't either.

The last little black kitten belonged to Ossie. She was the most shy of the litter, and she was on view for adoption when the morning staff came in and noticed she was lethargic, and not well. They tried to help her, but she was put to sleep that evening.

These are the babies we lost. Hopefully, this list won't grow any more.