So. First day back to work? During kitten season? Yeah. I didn't last long.
As a little backstory on this baby, she was brought into the shelter on June 19 with her mama, Powder Puff, and her brother, Frosty. Apparently mama was a stray this guy had been taking care of for three months. She popped with a litter of five, he found homes for three, and dropped the rest off at the shelter. Mama was put down yesterday morning because she got sick. Same with her brother.
I walked through the cat room, looking at everybody there. Mom told me that she wanted me to focus on kittens because she'd always had better luck introducing them to our established group, so six months or younger was my age range. I'd seen this little four-month-old girl in passing and went to get Mom to show her to me, along with one of the little tortoise shell kittens that had just come in the back.
When we went up to her cage, we noticed the weepy eyes, the sneezing, and the lethargy. She probably hadn't eaten in two days over the weekend and no one had noticed. And this little girl? She's sick. Sniffling, drooling, weepy eyes... but oh so treatable in a comfy home environment where she's not at constant risk of reexposure. Besides, all our other cats at home are currently suffering from the same upper respiratory infection. Bringing home a sick cat doesn't harm them at the moment!
She went into the cat isolation room and I thought about her for the rest of the day. When I went back to see Mom, she guiltily admitted that "Daisy" was still on her mind, too. During the last hour, I went into the room and cooed at her. She pathetically butted her head against the bars and just left it there. I opened the door and she stood to aaaaarch her back. The second I touched her, the motor started. She was like fluffy putty in my arms.
Oh yeah. This little lady worked her magic on me something fierce. Worked it long and hard enough that I did the adoption in the last five minutes and brought her home with me an hour later. If I'd left her here overnight, she would have deteriorated further and Mom would have had to put her down the next day.
No. Too many sweet, loving little kittens have to die for want of the manpower to nurse them back to health. Want of space to house them all. But not this one. Not my new baby.
I sat on the couch with her in my lap and she roooooolled around with my hand and purrrrrrred like a little angel. Dad came in from grocery shopping, having been forewarned and apologized to over the phone by Mom, to just stare. "Oh great. It's long-haired and white." A pause. "What's wrong with it?"
Heh. She was just happy and melty and lolling in my arms. That was what was wrong with her. She put me to sleep on the couch with her kitty sleep rays for a solid hour. They went from stun to kill later that night and I passed out with her next to me in bed.
She needs medicating, but so do all the others. She needs fattening up desperately so that I can no longer feel every rib and ridge of her spine, but she's willing to eat the Appetite Diet pate fattie food and that's a great sign.
I would like everyone to please meet Sophie, the newest member of our family and my new baby! Behold as she lives up to her new nickname (Soph-a-Loaf) for the first time! Paws tucked up under and so precious.
