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 litter mates. 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 known.
