Against All Odds

I received a call from Sue (a fellow animal lover) telling me that one
of the local shelters was over run with mother cats and kittens.
They were looking for foster homes to take in these moms and
babies so they would not have to kill them due to lack of room. At
the time I did not really want to take on another responsibility. I
already had 2 big dogs and 4 other cats but I was between jobs and
had no excuse. Besides, Sue has a very big power of persuasion. So
off we went, carriers in hand, to the shelter.

I choose a black and white female whose kittens were already up
for adoption and was nursing a second litter whose mother had
died. If she was willing to nurse kittens that were not her own and
give them a chance, I was willing to give her a chance.

Once home, I set her and the 5 tiny kittens up in 2 large cages
rigged together to form a make-shift cat condo, complete with
fluffy bedding, litter pan, food and water in a separate room away
from my other animals. This little family was an endless source of
entertainment and wonder for me and my daughter Trisha.  The
kittens were so tiny and sweet and the foster mom, who I named
Abeleena, was a very attentive and caring mother.

We began the process of naming the kittens. One by one they got
their names according to their personalities. Squeak, the smallest
and most timid, Frick and Frack, always together moving as one
unit, and Millie, the sweetest. The one that really caught my fancy
was an orange male we named Tank. He was the biggest and most
animated. Tank was the first to open his eyes, to explore his
surroundings and the first to try and fit through the bars of the cage.

One morning I noticed that Squeak was not cuddled up with the
family unit. She was lying at the furthest end of the cage. This was
very unusual because Abeleena was always collecting them,
washing them and feeding them. She never let them get very far
from her for very long. I picked Squeak up and she was very cold
and had diarrhea all over her back end.  I took her upstairs, cleaned
her off, wrapped her in a towel and put her on a heating pad in a
basket while I called the vet to say I was coming right over.  
Squeak died as we were getting in the car. I called the vet back and
he said it was probably something called "failure to thrive." Squeak
was the smallest and most delicate. It is not unusual for the smallest
one of the litter not to make it. I checked the other kittens and they
seemed fine. They were warm and feeding happily while Abeleena
cleaned them with her sand paper-like tongue. We wrapped little
Squeak in a piece of blanket, laid her in an herbal tea box and gave
her a fitting burial in the back yard under a tall tree.

Not wanting to miss anything, I took Abeleena and her remaining
family to the vet to be checked out. He looked over each one and
said they looked fine. I explained that the original mother of the
kittens had died and I did not know from what. The vet said just to
keep a close eye on them just to be on the safe side and that is just
what I did.

Abeleena continued to be a good mom and the kittens continued to
grow and now all had opened their eyes and were exploring their
surroundings more and more each day. Tank continued to delight
me with his antics as he was now climbing up the bars of his cage
and at times would forget how to get down. He would hang there
meowing loudly until Abeleena or myself would rescue him. He was
about 6 inches long at the time, a full inch bigger than his
littermates. He could push is way through his siblings with no
problem and of course knock them over easily. Abeleena tried her
best to keep the peace but Tank's size made him a force to be
reckoned with.

It was a little less then a week since Squeak's passing and I was
making a final check on the family before going to bed.  I noticed
Frack was at the far end of the cage away from the rest of the
family. I picked her up and examined her. She was warm, no signs
of diarrhea, and squirmed around in my hand meowing.  She
seemed fine so put her back with the others and went to bed.
Several hours later in the darkness of the early morning I went back
downstairs to check on the little family. Frack was back on the far
side of the cage and had passed on. There was no diarrhea like the
last time and no signs of sickness. I took her upstairs to wrap her
tiny body and find another tea box to lay her in. I sat at the kitchen
table holding her in my hand wondering what was going on with the
kittens and praying this would be the last death.

A day later Frick and Millie passed minutes after having one shot
each of explosive diarrhea. The only kitten left was Tank who still
seemed quite healthy and never stopped growing.  Seven days later,
Tank died. I found him next to Abeleena as she was attempting to
keep his lifeless body warm. I felt terrible taking him from
Abeleena, a cat who lost so much and tried so hard.

We buried Tank in the last tea box in the house next to his brothers
and sisters. I could not take Abeleena back to the shelter to face an
uncertain future. She deserved an uncomplicated life of love and
peace. She would have that life here with us.

I found out later that the original mother cat died from
panleukapenia and there had been epidemic at the shelter. These
kittens had no chance of survival. Would I have taken this little
family in if I had known that? Probably not, but I can't be sure
what I would have done. All I know is that even though this
experience was sad and tears were shed, there were times of great
joy and laughter. Through Abeleena, I learned even more about
second chances, unconditional love, kindness and persevering
against all odds. I am a better, wiser person because of this
experience. I have also been enriched as I now share this home
with Abeleena, a cat who possesses one of the most beautiful feline
spirits I have ever know.
Abeleena at the Window