A Great Day

As many of you know, our most recent litter of foster kittens was unfortunately diagnosed with Feline Leukemia.  They are such good, sweet little kittens, and I found the entire situation heart-breaking.  They were in my home for almost three months while we tried, desperately, to think of something to do with them.  They could NOT stay at my house, nor could they be absorbed into any number of feline-friendly households...  FeLV is contagious to other cats.  (They were able to stay at my house for those three months because they were under strict quarantine in the guest room.)  The shelter contacted sanctuaries, but there were no nibbles.

It was heart-breaking to me to go into their room every day, to clean up, change litter, feed, and yes, snuggle and play, and not know what was going to happen to them.  I would lay on the bed and all three would crawl on top of me, purring and purring.  Clark would insist on lying down next to my face, and he would purr and gaze into my eyes and occasionally nuzzle my cheek or my nose.  Lewis would perch wherever he could, kneading my clothes with his front paws, and every once in awhile he wouldn't be able to resist giving the tip of my nose an experimental nibble.  Nellie would run up and down my frame, purring madly all the while, and occasionally swoop in and demand petting.

(But are you noticing past-tense in my wording here?)

Last week, everything changed.  I got an email from a woman who had seen my blog.  She was looking for an FeLV positive kitten as a companion to her already FeLV positive cat.  Could she meet the kittens to see if she wanted to adopt any of them?

She came to our house on Wednesday night, and met all three of them, and left to think about it.  I fully expected to hear back from her, and just wondered which of the kittens had gotten a lucky break.

Thursday morning she contacted me and the shelter to say that she'd thought about it, done some research, and wanted to adopt ALL THREE OF THEM.  All of them got a lucky break!

And the rest, as they say, is history.  She and her sister came and picked them up today, and they are off to their own home, where it is so obvious to me that they will be loved and well cared for and adored.

No foster parent could ever ask for a better situation for any litter of kittens that they have gotten to know and love...  but especially in a situation like this one.

It's of course always bittersweet to watch them leave, and the house always seems just a little bit emptier after they go.  But...  they went to a good home.  Which means that it's more sweet than bitter, because that's what we as fosters DO.

Today, I took them downstairs about an hour before their new mom came to pick them up, to play with them, say my good-byes, and get some pictures.  They didn't ALWAYS cooperate with my plans for them, but here are a few pictures that I managed to get.

Nellie, considering how to steal the string toy from her brother.

Lewis, holding still for a fraction of a second.

Clark, REALLY getting into the string-toy.

So this is very much a cause for celebration!

Congratulations to Lewis, Clark and Nellie, as they move on to explore the next horizon.  And congratulations to their new mom, who I am certain will get a lot of joy out of them.

Still Alive

I thought I'd post to let you know that we're all still alive here at Carnivores.  

Let's see...  

Maera has been very good.  She has been SUCH a patient subject, because I finally graduated up from the pictures that I was taking with my iPhone.  For my birthday this month, I got a Canon Rebel T3i camera, and have been enjoying playing with it and taking pictures of mostly the animals.  The dogs bear the brunt of it, because they can't hide in small places like the cats can.   I still admit to not knowing what I'm doing, though...  which is why I'm signed up to take a beginner's class in about a week and a half.  I can't wait!

Of course, she's not ALWAYS very good.  The picture above is of the remains of a bill for veterinary services.  Ahem.  

Argos is ALWAYS good.  He's such a laid-back dog, and eager to please.  The only thing that he doesn't really care for is when Maera starts jumping around and accidentally (or on purpose, take your pick) jumps on him.  He'll show teeth to her then, and growl or bark.  It always startles me, and is very annoying, but I can't really blame him for not wanting a dog six years his junior leaping on him.

Honestly most of the cats are annoyed with my camera.  I've had a difficult time getting them to pose.  All except for Charlotte, who seems to enjoy looking right at the camera, and posing as if it's a given that we'd want to take photos of her.  So, bask in the glory and beauty of the queen!

That's not to say that I HAVEN'T gotten pictures of the other cats.

I still have the FeLV kittens.  They're growing like little weeds, and are otherwise very healthy.  I don't think that any placement has been found for them yet, which is heart-breaking.  In fact, my heart breaks just a little bit more every time I go into their room and see them.  Clark snuggles up to me and gazes into my eyes, Lewis tries to bite my nose, purring all the while, and Nellie climbs all over me.  It's just not fair that they have this disease.  

A Long Week - And a Birthday!

I haven't had any news about placement for our FeLV+ kittens yet.  They're still in my bathroom.  I have to remind myself that they don't know that they're sick.  As far as THEY are concerned, they are normal kittens, with normal kitten goals.

Clark has fallen into the toilet TWICE now because he is so desperate to explore it.

He has also fallen over the side of the tub while I was showering.  His little eyes went so wide when he realized that water was falling from the sky.

Lewis also has gone "swimming" in the toilet.  Mind you, we keep the toilet lid down in general.  But in that two seconds after a poor, unsuspecting soul LIFTS the lid with the intention of using the camode for its intended purpose, BAM!  Kitten.

A sleepy Nellie paws up my leg.

Lewis shows that string who's boss.

Clark vanquishes his arch-nemesis, the vacuum.

Kitten wrestling.

Of course, when you have needy kittens in the house, it's easy to talk about nothing else, but the other animals' lives are continuing on as well.

Now that the weather is cooling off, they are a bit more active.  (OK, in the picture above, Argos doesn't look all THAT active, but he has been friskier when we go outside.)

The cats are more likely to come downstairs and interact with us, instead of napping the afternoon away.

Thomas has proven that he is actually quite fond of table scraps, thank you very much.  Now that he's learning that we're not going to flip out and start hitting him with brooms, he's gotten kind of cheeky about it.  Sometimes, he'll jump up onto the table and just walk over to your plate like he owns it, and as we've learned the hard way, he is more than happy to help himself if you don't move fast enough!

Thomas and Jeff have a "conversation" about whose dinner it really is.

And I feel super-guilty about this, but Maera had a birthday!  Last Saturday, in fact.  And not only did I not remark on it, but I completely forgot about it.  In my defense, we'd JUST gotten the bad news about the kittens, we were on vacation and therefore not looking at a calendar, AND my folks drove out from Missouri to visit us that weekend.  Maera has forgiven us.  I got her a stuffy today to make up for it, which entertained her for all of... oh, 30 minutes.  ANYWAY.  Happy Birthday, Maera!  She turned three years old.

A certain tranquility has descended upon the house.  Oh, we're insanely busy.  There's far too much going on, and I went back to work this week.  But the animals have reached a certain peace with one another.  Every once in awhile, it will erupt into sniping - usually Bit v. Thomas, but every once in awhile it's Bit v. Annie.  Or maybe Annie v. Thomas.

But overall, I'm very pleased with how everyone is getting along.

In closing, everyone keep your fingers crossed for our FeLV+ foster kittens.  I would love for these little love-bugs to get homes regardless of their retrovirus, and know for a fact that it doesn't HAVE to mean a death sentence for them.  We need all of the good thoughts, prayers, and positive vibes that you can send us!

Heartsick - FeLV Strikes

One of the main reasons that I have fallen behind in my blogging this summer is that I have been fostering kittens.  Even the most trouble-free litter takes up a lot of time and energy, and when juggling foster care with care for my own animals, work, and yes, trying to get some much-needed R&R, there isn't much time OR energy left over.

But this last litter...  this last litter is determined to not only break my heart, but to stomp it into little tiny pieces.

On Monday, after being sick with diarrhea for several days (even with the prescription medication) Amelia, named after Amelia Earhart, died.  Her intestines had telescoped inside of themselves, and there was no cure.  Nothing could be done.

The very next day, her sister, Nellie, got very sick.  She had a 106 degree fever, and was hospitalized at the shelter's clinic for four days.  She rallied, came back home with me, then got worse again on Monday... this time, the site where she received sub-q fluids swelled up to nearly the size of a golf-ball, and she couldn't use her front legs as a result.  She was literally trembling in pain... BUT  she rallied yet again after a change in antibiotics, and we thought that was the end of it.

Nellie

But today was by far the worst.  The entire litter was retested for FeLV,  and even though they originally tested negative, today they tested positive.

And I am so at a loss.

The shelter cannot adopt them out to a normal household.  I can't keep them indefinitely - I have my own cats to think of.  The vets are fairly certain that the very limited contact that my cats have had with these babies has not infected them, but we can't take chances with prolonged contact,  and we can't keep them in quarantine indefinitely - that's no way for a cat to live. The reality is that these babies have nowhere to go.


They are sweet, innocent little kittens, and it is not their fault that they have a disease.  They are face-kissers, nose nuzzlers.  They are perfect lap-cat material and have no fear of humans, dogs, other cats.  They should have been some of the most adoptable kittens available.

Clark

But any windows of opportunity that they once had due to their cuteness are closing.

Does anyone know of someone who already has an FeLV positive cat that might want a kitten?  Multiple kittens?  A sanctuary that wants a three-pack of adorable kittens?   We're in Western Pennsylvania, if that makes a difference or helps.  I don't have the authority to place these kittens - they're fosters, not mine, but the shelter is willing to attempt to place them if a suitable situation is found.

Lewis

Loss

Little Amelia passed away this morning.  While she was still eager to eat, and interact with her environment, I held out some hope that she would get better.  But last night, she turned a corner, and not a good one.  She didn't eat her bedtime meal.  This morning, she refused breakfast, even though I gave her some of the most tempting, smelly food ever.  And I noticed that her eyes were cloudy.  They'd never been cloudy before.

It turns out that she had severe intussusception.  Jeff stayed with her through her final moments, and held her as she went to sleep for the last time, then came home and buried her in the yard with Romeo and Guido. 

I started bracing myself for this on Saturday.  Yes, I still had hope, but I also had a feeling in my gut that things weren't going to turn out well. Not this time.  She was just so frail, and got that way so quickly.  Her eyes, while bright and curious, were sunken and crusted.  I just wanted to cry every time I saw her.  

So I started carrying her around with me.  It might sound silly, but I wanted her to see things before she died.  To experience as much wonder in her short time as was possible.  So I carried her on my chest as I went about my business.  I let her play my new video game with me.  She sat on my lap while I checked my internet sites.  We went outside and sat on the front lawn, in the sun and the breeze.  I wanted this to be a gift to her.  And I like to humor myself into thinking that she saw it as a gift, as she tilted her tiny face sunward and let the breeze ruffle through her fur.  She closed her eyes, and started a gentle purr.  THIS, this is the image that I will always have of my little Amelia Earhart.

I did not get a picture of that image, because I was too busy wiping away my tears, so the one below will have to suffice.

At the end of the day, she crawled up my chest, and curled herself into a little ball under my chin, purring and kneading my skin with her tiny paws.  And I watched television, gently stroking her fur and willing her to magically get better.

There isn't really much to say about it beyond that.  Sometimes, even when all of the people involved do all of the right things, and there's love, and light, and care... sometimes all of that is not enough.  Lives are lost.  Hearts are broken.

And the rest of us carry on, because that is what the living do.  

A Sadness

One of our foster kittens, Amelia, isn't doing well.  She's had diarrhea for a few days now, and when the shelter's vet looked at her yesterday, she didn't have a good prognosis for her.  Amelia's intestines are very full, which probably means there's something blocking the natural process, which is probably a tumor.  If this is the case, then little Amelia probably isn't going to make it.  We have her on a low dose of prednisone with hopes that it will bring down intestinal swelling.  I imagine that we'll know in a couple of days if that is working or not.

So keep your fingers crossed for her.  She's so small and frail looking after even just a few days, and it breaks my heart.  If her siblings weren't doing so well, I'd feel like a failure as a foster parent.  (I know, logically, that it isn't my fault.  That doesn't make it any easier to swallow that I might not be able to help her.)  But we're going to try.  Our ray of hope is that she is alert, curious, eager to interact with her environment, and is eating and drinking.   Jeff said it best yesterday when he said that as long as she was willing to fight, we were willing to do whatever we can to help her.

The photo is of Amelia sitting on my lap while I watch t.v.  With greyhounds in the background because... well, because that's just how life in my house goes!

The other foster kittens are probably going back to the shelter as soon as I can get them in for spaying and neutering.  I haven't had them weighed yet, but judging from the past couple of litters I've had come through here, there's no way that they're not two pounds each.  And I should add, SO cute and adorable.  The whole litter is so affectionate.  They're always giving me nose bumps and nose kisses, and all of them have climbed up to nuzzle my face.  Even Amelia, as poorly as she is feeling.  They should get adopted so quickly.

Something that will please Bit greatly.  She is upset that we're spending so much time in the "kitten room."  And last night she was furious that I was holding Amelia while I watched t.v.  She wants to remind us all that SHE is the princess of this household.

So again, please send good thoughts Amelia's way.  And enjoy your Sundays.

Rules

Rules.  You know, those things that you say you're going to follow once you get animals in your house.  Or rather, those things that you think your animals are going to follow once they get into your house.

And there are some rules that I enforce.  The top few, in no particular order, that I do not budge on:

1.  No eating of humans.  This means you cannot put my entire face in your mouth, Maera.  Yes, even  if you don't use teeth.

2.  One dog per crate.  Not to keep picking on Maera, but she IS the one that tries to crawl into Argos' crate with him sometimes.  This makes him crazy, and angry, and confused, and no one wants to see that in normally mild-mannered Argos.  That's HIS sacred space, and I let him have that privacy.

3.  No peeing on Maera's head, Argos.

4.  No tormenting of foster cats, Bit.

5.  No dogs chasing cats.  For any reason.  Even if the cat is being silly and needs to be chased.

6.  No eating off of my plate.  Maera.  Argos.  Tom.  Bit.

This house is simply NO fun, Mom.

But then there are the rules that fall by the wayside.  Either they're too much work to enforce, they were impractical to begin with, or they just don't apply to the situation.

Some of those in my household are:

1.  After reading some dog training materials, I determined that when the dogs and I came home from a walk, that I was to ALWAYS precede the dog into the house to show that I was dominant.

Ha.  This one went away within the first week we had Argos.  First of all, Argos was not trying to be top dog.  He was desperately trying to figure out what we wanted him to do, so that he could please us.  Second, greyhounds are LONG.  It was very difficult to manage getting me in, then him in, while holding open the door and not having it close on his tail without letting a cat outside.    Sometimes I have to give him a gentle PUSH to get him to go in before me, but it really, really is more practical.

2.  No dogs on the human bed.  I guess we do stick to it a little - we generally don't let them sleep with us at night.  They have crates with big soft beds in them.  Greyhounds do not make it easy for anyone else to share a space with them at night - plus putting them in crates doesn't set the dogs and cats up for an unfortunate nocturnal misunderstanding.  (And actually, Argos wants to crate at night.  We call it auto-crating.)

 But they nap with us during the daytime.  And Maera sleeps on the bed sometimes when we're all upstairs.  It keeps her happy, I know where she is, and she isn't hurting anyone.  So, another rule bites the dust.

3.  No scratching on the furniture.  This is actually a rule that I would LOVE to enforce, but anyone with cats knows that this one is a difficult one.  Yes, they have scratching posts and pads.  They seem to just enjoy scratching the furniture.  I stop them when I'm in the room, but I can't and won't monitor the furniture 24-7.   I haven't gone so far as to get Soft Paws, and of course I would never dream of declawing them...  I'd rather deal with scratched up furniture, and the Soft Paws just sound like something that is going to get eaten by someone. So, it's throws and slip covers for the rest of my forseeable future.

4.  No cats on the dining room table.  I lost that one a couple of years ago when Romeo (RIP) starting sleeping on it to keep away from Bit.  I could hardly fault him, so didn't enforce it like I should have.  And I have caught glimpses of Annie on the table.

This is Tom, last week, being pretty blatant about it.  He looks like he's getting very stroppy with me about it, but in all fairness, I just caught him in mid-yawn.

I stick with my rule that the dogs are not allowed on the dining room table, though.  I will hold firm on that one.

So what rules did you imagine that you'd have that you abandoned?  Or what rules did you have to enforce that you never dreamed of needing to?