***DISCLAIMER*** THIS ENTRY CONTAINS DISTURBING DESCRIPTIONS AND IMAGES. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. ***TRIGGER WARNING***
Things are usually pretty textbook here. The day-to-day of changing litter boxes, feeding, cleaning bedding, refreshing water and so on, punctuated by adoptions, trappings, surrenders and fosters coming and going. Then we have days like today when horrific situations are found, and we must launch into decisive, life-saving action within minutes.
The call came in. She had gone into a storage space under her father's house, only to find a tangled mass. If you have a sensitive stomach, stop ✋️ here. The kittens had never been freed of their umbilical cords. Two had not survived. Two were clinging to life, the strongest already opening its eyes. This puts them at roughly two weeks old.
She had called everywhere, even the local police. They sent her to me. "Bring them to me as fast as you can" I urged her, and began prepping bottles, medical supplies, and mixing formula.
The writhing mass was in a box. I opened it and my stomach turned. Two live kittens were bound to the decaying bodies of their lost siblings. I bid the good Samaritan a quick farewell, and launched into action. My job became triage. I cut the strongest kitten loose and cleaned the umbilical area with alcohol. It was inflamed, but looked like it would be fine.
The sight below the first kitten is difficult to describe, but trust me, it's harder to see. The other surviving kittens back left leg was part of the jumble of knotted umbilical cords and limbs. It had obviously long ago, probably from shortly after birth, been broken and all blood flow had been cut off. The lower part of its little leg was blackened and decaying.
With the help of my husband, we cut away the lifeless bodies and gave the injured kitten it's first taste of autonomy. There was still a tangle of parts of cords and the leg to be dealt with, but it would require closer, more careful inspection.
The starving baby took immediately to the bottle, giving itself a brief case of the hiccups. After being assured that it had food in its tummy, I administered a micro-dose of a strong pain medication, swaddled the tiny creature, and put it in a warm corner of my couch for observation.
Within a half hour, it was calm, breathing steadily, and drank more warm milk as it drifted in and out of sleep. Perfect. I unwrapped the tiny body and held it under bright lights, inspecting the swollen upper leg. The foul, black flesh below had to go. It was hanging on by a thin, filthy tatter of skin and hair. I pulled my surgical scissors from the alcohol, poured some alcohol over the thin area, and *snip*.
The infection is bad, but the baby is eating, and resting comfortably. The stronger one will most likely be fine. The poor things are free from the stench of death that has been their litter mate. At least now if nature takes this life, it leaves as a free creature who knew compassion and warmth. This is why I'm obsessed with our spay and neuter program.
The gentleman under whose house they were found does not own a cat.
I'm not understating my case in the slightest when I say, that successful or not, every rescue is worth the effort and the price. I know the images I shared are heartbreaking, but I invest myself into each little life, with the hope that they bring someone unconditional love ❤️ .
I don't win 100% of the time, and I cry when I lose one. This is the reality of rescue. I really hope I did enough to get this kitten to a vet for antibiotics and surgical care it needs. If I succeed, it becomes a financial issue of epic proportions, but a healthy three-legged kitten would be our dream! If you can, donate a couple of dollars through the home page and help me keep up the good fight!
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