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- #141
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- Mar 27, 2013
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Honestly, if I've really done all that I could possibly do, I'll be at peace with whatever outcome knowing that I did my absolute best to give these kittens a better chance. That's not to say that I'll be happy with it, but I won't constantly have that nagging "You could have done more" playing through my head.
For a while now, people have been telling me that if the kittens DO happen to die, then it's not my fault because I did my best--it's the fault of the person who dumped them in the park to begin with. Every time I've been told that they'll die, my general reply has been, "I'll cry about it if it actually happens." and maybe it's because I probably don't understand the true extent of the danger they're in as much as you do or maybe because they're all still alive and meowing when I pick them up here in front of me, but I'm not about to lose hope for a single one of them. I've received grave news like this before for my resident cat, Juliet, when I got her two years ago.
She'd been getting neglected by her owners when she was about a two months old, not eating any solid food and the owners hadn't noticed until she was in critical condition. Being a Maine Coon-Persian mix, she's a really expensive cat over here, going for around 1500RM. The deal was that if I could save her, I could keep her and I was delighted because I'd been looking for a cat but I wanted to rescue one, not buy one. When I took her to the vet upon receiving her all the vet said to me was, "Make her comfortable." and didn't seem to believe that she could be saved at all, telling me she'd probably have less than a week. I asked her if there was anything I could possibly do, and she very doubtfully said that I could force-feed her a liquefied can of cat food that was high in fat, but it probably wasn't going to work.
It's been two years since then and honestly Juliet's the best cat I could have ever asked for. I still have a huge scar from where she raked her claws down my arm while I was trying to force-feed her, and when I look at it I can't help but smile when I remember how much we got through back then. All I can say is that I hope this situation turns out like that one did. That I'm going to look back at all this and think, "They had some close calls, but look at them now!" and take pictures of them sunbathing like how I do every morning with Juliet.
I'm sorry I rambled, I got really passionate about it. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm not really prepared to accept the possibility of losing any of them. It's not over until it's over, and as long as they're breathing there's a chance and I wholeheartedly believe in that chance. I know it's naive to think that way, and it might get me hurt in the long run, but I kind of want to hang onto that feeling for as long as I can.
For a while now, people have been telling me that if the kittens DO happen to die, then it's not my fault because I did my best--it's the fault of the person who dumped them in the park to begin with. Every time I've been told that they'll die, my general reply has been, "I'll cry about it if it actually happens." and maybe it's because I probably don't understand the true extent of the danger they're in as much as you do or maybe because they're all still alive and meowing when I pick them up here in front of me, but I'm not about to lose hope for a single one of them. I've received grave news like this before for my resident cat, Juliet, when I got her two years ago.
She'd been getting neglected by her owners when she was about a two months old, not eating any solid food and the owners hadn't noticed until she was in critical condition. Being a Maine Coon-Persian mix, she's a really expensive cat over here, going for around 1500RM. The deal was that if I could save her, I could keep her and I was delighted because I'd been looking for a cat but I wanted to rescue one, not buy one. When I took her to the vet upon receiving her all the vet said to me was, "Make her comfortable." and didn't seem to believe that she could be saved at all, telling me she'd probably have less than a week. I asked her if there was anything I could possibly do, and she very doubtfully said that I could force-feed her a liquefied can of cat food that was high in fat, but it probably wasn't going to work.
It's been two years since then and honestly Juliet's the best cat I could have ever asked for. I still have a huge scar from where she raked her claws down my arm while I was trying to force-feed her, and when I look at it I can't help but smile when I remember how much we got through back then. All I can say is that I hope this situation turns out like that one did. That I'm going to look back at all this and think, "They had some close calls, but look at them now!" and take pictures of them sunbathing like how I do every morning with Juliet.
I'm sorry I rambled, I got really passionate about it. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm not really prepared to accept the possibility of losing any of them. It's not over until it's over, and as long as they're breathing there's a chance and I wholeheartedly believe in that chance. I know it's naive to think that way, and it might get me hurt in the long run, but I kind of want to hang onto that feeling for as long as I can.