In my early 20’s I started work for a animal rescue in Maryland. My first day they showed me around and we came into a room where they kept small animals not yet ready to be adopted. Due to illness or recovery. Well, in one of the cages was this little black ball of fluff. A 4 week old kitten had been found near the rail tracks about 40 miles from this rescue, someone had found her and brought her in. They’d been hand feeding her and part of my job would be to help out.
All she did was eat or roll in anything food like. When she started on more solid foods she was washed afterwards. So the days went on, she got bigger and every time I walked into this room she would climb the cage door and look at me (she’d not figured out how to meow yet).
Finally the day came, she was old enough to be adopted. I had gone into the kitten room to see the other kittens and feed/clean up after them. They climbed on me and we had a bunch of fun but I knew what was coming, the little black kitten would soon be joining them. My coworkers kept telling me to adopt her, but I kept saying no. Until the last minute.
I already had one cat at home (and two ferrets) so I had everything for another cat, and after borrowing a carrier she went home with me. In the end her name was Little Girl, after a heated argument that I wasn’t allowed to call her Salem (I got enough witch jokes as it was) and she was little and a girl….
3 house moves later she had grown into a big girl and was pretty tubby. She would eat anything and everything.
Penguin (my other cat), Kaos (my ferret), Little Girl and I ended up living with my mom for a few years and I met my husband – alas he lived in the UK.
So I had to part from my pets for a time, we visited them every year and had decided after a house was bought they would be moving over and settling with us. To help me cope with not having any pets we found a lovely Burmese kitten who we named Lirael – I made the mistake of telling my husband cats are nice docile creatures (he’s a sucker).
Our house was purchased last year, we wanted a bit of time to get the house sorted and save up the £1,600 it would cost to get Little Girl and Penguin over.
Unfortunately in October my mom had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer – she’d been so sick she couldn’t look after herself and weighed about 80lbs. I flew over to see her and be there for her operation. Her parents opted to stay with her and take care of her. I understood that taking care of 2 cat and a ferret was going to be difficult but I did everything I could including scheduling a cat sitter to come visit every few days, feed, water, clean up after the pets so my family wouldn’t have to do anything. I had also started them on the PETS program to get them over here.
After coming back to the UK I got a phone call from my mom saying get the animals out of the house or she would call the local rescue to come and take them. Her being ill and all I could almost understand where she was coming from, she gave me a week to get them out.
Luckily my aunt found a person who could foster all of them. She had 2 cats of her own and a ferret. Little Girl and Penguin went to the vets for 2 weeks so they could get their blood tested for rabies for the PETS program. Kaos went to live with the foster lady as he roughly 7 years old and it would be too much to put him through travelling and all.
The foster lady got Penguin and Little girl and things were okay, and stayed that way for a while. A few days after Christmas I got a phone call from the foster lady, Little Girl was sick. Her skin was yellow and she wasn’t eating. She was taken to the local vets and eventually diagnosed with fatty liver disease. After talking to the vets and the foster lady we all decided to try to help Little Girl through this, a feeding tube was put in and the foster lady had to feed Little Girl through this tube a few times a day.
She was doing well for a while, then a few trips to the vets due to the tube clogging or vomiting. Little Girl I was told suffered everything like a champ. She never squirmed or anything while being fed or when the tube was cleaned (took 3 nurses an hour to get the blockage clear).
February 2nd – I got an email saying Little Girl wasn’t well, she was wheezing and lethargic. In the end the foster lady had to rush Little Girl to the vets.
We had been in the car on the way home, my mobile had been turned off.
When we got home the phone was ringing, it never occurred to me that it would be the vets. Well it was, they couldn’t wait any longer (it’s a 50 minute drive from work to home during rush hour). The poor vet could barely speak due to crying. They put Little Girl to sleep.
She was 6 years old and had never had any health problems, the vet couldn’t figure out why she had stopped eating.
Even now a few months later I can’t help but blame myself. I shouldn’t have moved to the UK, or maybe if I had got them ready to be sent over sooner or if my family could have looked after them…
The worst part, the very worst part – I wasn’t there to say goodbye.
