Sorry if this is the wrong forum to post this in but I would greatly appreciate the perspective advice for those of you with a lot of experience dealing with kittens/cats.
Short story: a week and a half ago I was walking through my house at 3AM in the dark and I accidentally stepped on my 9 week old kitten's head, killing her. I thought she was in her secure area but I guess she figured out how to escape. The scene was gruesome, skull cracking sounds, blood, shrill meows, etc. I am so sorry and I feel like the biggest piece of crap in the world. I know I cannot take it back and it doesn't help, but I'm aware that what I did was absolutely terrible and I'm devastated, embarrassed, and so ashamed of myself for my negligence. I wrapped her in a blanket and drove to the nearest 24 hr vet clinic. En route I heard her aspirating on her blood, I tried chest compressions while driving with my free hand to no avail. She let her bowels loose a couple minutes prior to entering the clinic parking lot and was lifeless by the time I entered the clinic door.
Prior to this I was not a "cat person" or even a pet person. She was my first kitten and pet, and I actually took her in unwillingly. I ran into a homeless guy whose kitten had a litter of 5 kittens and he was planning on taking them to a shelter if he didn't find homes for them. So, I went ahead and brought one home.
She was with me for 3 weeks. After week 1 I was pretty set on taking her to a shelter: she wreaked havoc to my furniture, refused to use the litter box, wouldn't eat, didn't sleep at reasonable times, etc. By week 2 I adored this lil girl though. She was curious, rambunctious, sweet, intelligent, and I looked forward to ending long work days cuddling with her on the couch and catching up on Netflix. She helped me with my anxiety IMMENSELY.
I work in healthcare. I've rotated in ICU's, I've worked in level I trauma bays and seen gunshot wounds to the face, hammer saw accidents resulting in limb loss, propane tank explosions leaving patients looking like a charred remain of their previous self, and everything in between. I've ran codes before and I've grown used to the feeling/sound of an individual's rib cage cracking beneath my hands as I perform chest compressions.
What I'm saying is, gore and blood don't disturb me much. The scene of the kitten's death was tough and is still vivid in my mind, but that is not the main thing bothering me. What bothers me is the fact I cut short a kitten's future life. I know this kitten was going to grow into a sweet and wonderful cat that would spend her days playing, eating, cuddling, and scratching the hell out of all my furniture. I wanted that for her, badly. Now she can't have that because I ****ed up.
I was wondering: where do I go from here?
Short story: a week and a half ago I was walking through my house at 3AM in the dark and I accidentally stepped on my 9 week old kitten's head, killing her. I thought she was in her secure area but I guess she figured out how to escape. The scene was gruesome, skull cracking sounds, blood, shrill meows, etc. I am so sorry and I feel like the biggest piece of crap in the world. I know I cannot take it back and it doesn't help, but I'm aware that what I did was absolutely terrible and I'm devastated, embarrassed, and so ashamed of myself for my negligence. I wrapped her in a blanket and drove to the nearest 24 hr vet clinic. En route I heard her aspirating on her blood, I tried chest compressions while driving with my free hand to no avail. She let her bowels loose a couple minutes prior to entering the clinic parking lot and was lifeless by the time I entered the clinic door.
Prior to this I was not a "cat person" or even a pet person. She was my first kitten and pet, and I actually took her in unwillingly. I ran into a homeless guy whose kitten had a litter of 5 kittens and he was planning on taking them to a shelter if he didn't find homes for them. So, I went ahead and brought one home.
She was with me for 3 weeks. After week 1 I was pretty set on taking her to a shelter: she wreaked havoc to my furniture, refused to use the litter box, wouldn't eat, didn't sleep at reasonable times, etc. By week 2 I adored this lil girl though. She was curious, rambunctious, sweet, intelligent, and I looked forward to ending long work days cuddling with her on the couch and catching up on Netflix. She helped me with my anxiety IMMENSELY.
I work in healthcare. I've rotated in ICU's, I've worked in level I trauma bays and seen gunshot wounds to the face, hammer saw accidents resulting in limb loss, propane tank explosions leaving patients looking like a charred remain of their previous self, and everything in between. I've ran codes before and I've grown used to the feeling/sound of an individual's rib cage cracking beneath my hands as I perform chest compressions.
What I'm saying is, gore and blood don't disturb me much. The scene of the kitten's death was tough and is still vivid in my mind, but that is not the main thing bothering me. What bothers me is the fact I cut short a kitten's future life. I know this kitten was going to grow into a sweet and wonderful cat that would spend her days playing, eating, cuddling, and scratching the hell out of all my furniture. I wanted that for her, badly. Now she can't have that because I ****ed up.
I was wondering: where do I go from here?