Itsy's Fight

Isty was the runt of the litter, and I've always had Florence Nightingale syndrome for the underdog, so I quickly took an interest in trying to get her healthy. We picked the family up on a Friday, and by Tues. or Weds. of the following week, I was concerned at having seen her eat so very little.

The shelter suggested that we help their URI by taking them into the bathroom and running the hot water to steam up the bathroom, allowing them to breathe the warm steam and help break up the congestion (much like one might do for a baby with croupe). So, I brought all six in, plus some warmed-up KMR (Kitten Milk Replacer—formula specially created to a kitten's nutritional needs) and a 1 ml. syringe with which to hand-feed her to get her some extra nutrition.

TIP: Much like human babies, cold milk (including KMR) is harder to digest than warm milk. And microwaving milk is not recommended because the microwave can create very hot pockets of fluid that can burn a kitten's mouth. But microwaves are just so quick and handy. So, instead of directly heating the KMR, I devised a way of heating the KMR through residual heat. Take a small, microwave safe glass or ceramic dish (such as a crème brulée dish, known as a ramekin). Fill the dish with water and place in the microwave. Heat in the microwave long enough for the hot water to heat up the dish itself. Then remove the dish, pour out the water, add the KMR and swirl to keep the KMR in contact with the hot dish. This will gently heat the KMR without creating hot spots.

After about 20 minutes, I was able to get a little KMR in Itsy. Then, by pulling the other kittens off mom and putting Itsy in and trying to guide her, eventually she ate a little bit. I thought maybe that's all she needed, just to be shown what to do and she'd be on the road to recovery.

On Thursday, though, things started to go downhill. She started having very labored breathing, and had to breathe through her mouth. I tried to feed her and to get her to nurse, but she was not interested. She was already so weak and I was worried for her.

Friday, one week after we picked them up, Michael spent the day with them and she got progressively weaker, and was having trouble keeping warm. Michael eventually decided to take her in to the shelter to get checked out and he came back with some Duralactin, a product with toothpaste-like consistency that contains L Lysine, a natural booster for the immune system. I finished preparing dinner, and ate, then headed upstairs to keep vigil again.

I took her back into the bathroom for more steam, and she was still so cold, so I brought a desk lamp into the bathroom and shone it on her to warm her up. She started moving around a little more, and then she got very fussy. I tried taking her back in to be with Charlotte, but she was so limp. Charlotte got up and moved out of the cage and into the dark carrier. I put Itsy in with her hoping that maybe there was something a mama cat could do that I couldn't.

After only a couple of minutes, I put my hand in to pet and comfort Itsy and found that she had stopped breathing.

I was in denial. I tried to give her CPR, but she was blue and limp. Michael told me to let her go, and I just held her and cried. It was one of the most heart-wrenching things I have been through. It was the first time I had witnessed a death, and I felt I had completely failed this tiny little being. Her life was supposed to get easier, and I was supposed to be her protector and advocate.

I don't ever remember seeing Michael cry as much as he did that weekend. My heart just hurt. There is no other way to describe it. When we signed up to foster, I was told to expect that not every kitten is going to make it. But when faced with the reality, it doesn't feel Darwinian. It feels like utter failure, and the loss of something so pure and innocent could not be reconciled.

Eventually, I wrapped her in a towel and we took her to our local animal hospital to rest overnight while we waited for the shelter to open in the morning.