Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Bowie's Story
A couple weeks passed as R and I get used to having Bowie and her two adorable kittens around, and even though I checked Bowie out with a Vet, we were worried about her. She was still breathing very heavily, some days more than others, but at its worst, she was panting, her mouth open, her ribcage heaving. Then, something wonderful happened--I was hired at a brand new animal hospital opening up in Apex, NC. It's my dream job, and it couldn't have been better timing for Bowie. I quickly found that the two Vets starting the business together were kind and knowledgeable, and they were keen to meet Bowie! As soon as we had the hospital set up and running, I brought her in. At first look, they couldn't find anything wrong with her, but they agreed she was breathing much too heavily, and said that the next step was an x-ray. I excitedly got to assist in every step, restraining her, positioning her for the x-ray, and immediately viewing the results (we have digital x-ray--no film to develop, images pop up on the computer screen in seconds!) As the first image popped up, I wasn't sure what a normal x-ray of a cat was supposed to look like, so I scanned it anxiously. Dr. J reacted immediately. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "That's not good!"
Saturday, May 21, 2011
My Easter Miracle
This past Easter Sunday (4 weeks ago tomorrow) my roommate and I sat at our counter, wondering how we should spend the afternoon. I'm a major animal lover, and that day in particular I was itching to run my fingers through some fur. With no pets of my own to love on, I wanted to hang out at the animal shelter, but I knew it would be closed. R, my roommate, suggested going to a nearby pet store, where they have cats for adoption, as well as ferrets and bunnies and cavies. I perked up at the thought, but a phone call later we found the store was also closed (for Easter).
Out of ideas, we decided to go on an evening walk together. Our goal was Lowe's down the street and around the corner--we wanted to look at patio furniture. Getting there required us to walk through a somewhat rundown neighborhood.
While passing by a particularly crummy house that looked more like a construction zone (mud, fences, trucks, and construction equipment littered the area) R noticed and pointed out a cat standing by a fence. She was beautiful--long, white fur, and upon closer inspection, we saw she had one sapphire blue eye, and one golden yellow eye. My breath caught in my throat, and compassion for the bedraggled creature rose up and spilled over inside of me as she came sweetly towards us, wanting to be petted.
Yes, she was beautiful, but she was also filthy, ragged-looking, and emaciated. A further look confirmed fleas and ticks swarming through her dirty white fur, and as she moved underneath our hands, we were alarmed by how easily we could feel her bones.
R and I had a brief discussion about her. It didn't take us long at all to decide that we couldn't leave her like this. I'd come across many a stray cat that looked healthy as a horse, and/or that wouldn't let me near enough to offer any assistance--but this cat looked like she needed help, and she was willing to let us help her.
R stayed with her while I sprinted back home to get my car. I drove back, and pulled up in the dirt driveway of the construction dump. R and the cat, whom he had affectionately named "Bowie" (for David Bowie--they both have two different colored eyes) were still there, but Bowie was a little bit nervous about my car. She clearly wanted our attention, but a lot of things were happening at once, and she pulled away from R and wandered off a bit, watching us carefully. R called her softly until she came back, and I picked her up. She was so very gentle--she didn't try biting or scratching, but she squirmed a little bit, probably in fear, so I used a jacket I had in my car to wrap her up (for her and my safety). Then she was calm, and R drove us back home while I sat with Bowie in my lap in the passenger seat.
We took her straight to my bathroom, and got her some towels to lay on. The only things we had in the fridge we thought she might like were some slices of ham, so we tore off a few pieces and offered them to her. She was so delicate--reaching out with her paw to draw the snack in, then taking it in her mouth, shaking it a bit, and devouring it. She wanted more, and we fed her a whole slice before I decided I needed to run to the store and get some things for her--food, a litter box, and some flea shampoo for starters.
When I get back, Bowie was happily crawling in and out of R's lap, and rolling over to let him rub her belly. I petted her for a bit (and picked off an evil tick!) before I decided it was time for her bath. I was amazed at how easy it was to bathe her. She didn't try to escape the bathtub, and barely squirmed at all, though it was clear that the roar of the water frightened her a bit. Again, she wouldn't bite or scratch me, but she gave off such sad little "mews!" that I hurried the process as much as possible.
I toweled her off as best I could, and gave her dishes for food and water. Bowie looked even skinnier with her fur all clumpy and wet, but there was nothing to be done about it. That's when R and I noticed she was breathing funny. We were both worried about her, and R began making calls and researching online to get any helpful information on what we could do to help her, and I'd gotten the number and address of an emergency animal hospital nearby that was open. We were as prepared as we could be, but still felt completely helpless. I just wanted her to be okay, but I knew I'd just have to wait and see. I could take her to a vet clinic the very next day, and there was always the emergency hospital if she started looking really bad.
It was about 10:00 that evening that we figured it out--Bowie was about to have kittens. She was pacing and panting and looking extremely uncomfortable. I felt her stomach, and even though she was the skinniest thing I'd ever seen, I realized there were some hard lumps in that belly. R and I were stunned. After some time of painful looking contractions during which Bowie uttered some heart-wrenching plaintive "mew!"s, kitten number one began to emerge. Bowie allowed us to be there for the entire process, though she was so exhausted, I had to help a bit with drying the kitten off and cutting the umbilical cord. The kitten was a mix of dark and white, and the tiniest, most helpless thing I'd ever seen. An hour later, kitten number two came forth. I really had to assist with this little guy--Bowie just didn't seem to have it in her. This kitten was all white, except for three dark spots on the very top of his head. When I realized Bowie wasn't going to eat the placenta, I went ahead and flushed them, and R and I continued to watch the new little family until we were sure the kittens were suckling and Bowie was recovered enough to clean them and protect them. We didn't have a box, but they seemed content on the pile of towels, so around 4 in the morning, I finally laid down to get some sleep.
I was starting a new job in the morning, and had to be there at 7:00AM. I was exhausted, but exhilarated! Somehow I made it through the day of work, and I called a vet as soon as I was off. He told me to make a comfy nest for them in a cardboard box that the mom could get in and out of. I ran to PetsMart and got a box, as well as some other supplies, and when I got home, I made Bowie and her kittens as comfortable as possible. I didn't want to drag them all to the vet that day, but I made an appointment for the next day (Tuesday) to get them checked out. Bowie was still breathing heavily, and I was worried there might be another kitten stuck in her.
The next day, I took them all in a big box to Noah's Ark Animal Hospital along Cary Parkway. I'd found a "15% off your first appointment" coupon for that clinic on the web, and I needed all the help I could get financially.
The vet there was as kind a man as I have ever met. Everyone there was very helpful, and they were awed by the story I told them of how R and I had found her and she had kittens that very night! "She's so small!" one of the veterinary assistants cooed, looking at Bowie. Bowie IS very small. Their scale weighed her at only 5 and 1/2 pounds. The vet said Bowie was probably just a kitten herself--barely one year old. Bowie was very accommodating to the vet as he shaved her belly and took an ultrasound to determine if there were any more kittens in her. No kittens left in there! He gave her some food to check her appetite, and Bowie ate with relish! They also gave her a rinse to clean her of all the blood from giving birth. The vet didn't recommend giving her any vaccinations while she was nursing kittens, so the only other thing he could do was take a blood sample and test her for feline leukemia and FIV. I also got a de-worming medication--just in case. He said the medicine wouldn't hurt her or the kittens, and he couldn't check for worms without a fecal sample, which I didn't have. He also gave her a Capstar pill, to kill any fleas that might have remained on her. Towards the end of our visit, the vet stepped out of the room, and I heard him talking to the receptionist. "Don't ring up the Capstar, the cat food, or the bath we gave, and give her half off of the rest. She found her as a stray..." I was so touched I almost started crying. That was the best experience in a vet's office I have ever had.
Nothing left to do then but to watch Bowie and the kittens grow... and so far R and I have found much pleasure in doing just that.
Out of ideas, we decided to go on an evening walk together. Our goal was Lowe's down the street and around the corner--we wanted to look at patio furniture. Getting there required us to walk through a somewhat rundown neighborhood.
While passing by a particularly crummy house that looked more like a construction zone (mud, fences, trucks, and construction equipment littered the area) R noticed and pointed out a cat standing by a fence. She was beautiful--long, white fur, and upon closer inspection, we saw she had one sapphire blue eye, and one golden yellow eye. My breath caught in my throat, and compassion for the bedraggled creature rose up and spilled over inside of me as she came sweetly towards us, wanting to be petted.
Yes, she was beautiful, but she was also filthy, ragged-looking, and emaciated. A further look confirmed fleas and ticks swarming through her dirty white fur, and as she moved underneath our hands, we were alarmed by how easily we could feel her bones.
R and I had a brief discussion about her. It didn't take us long at all to decide that we couldn't leave her like this. I'd come across many a stray cat that looked healthy as a horse, and/or that wouldn't let me near enough to offer any assistance--but this cat looked like she needed help, and she was willing to let us help her.
R stayed with her while I sprinted back home to get my car. I drove back, and pulled up in the dirt driveway of the construction dump. R and the cat, whom he had affectionately named "Bowie" (for David Bowie--they both have two different colored eyes) were still there, but Bowie was a little bit nervous about my car. She clearly wanted our attention, but a lot of things were happening at once, and she pulled away from R and wandered off a bit, watching us carefully. R called her softly until she came back, and I picked her up. She was so very gentle--she didn't try biting or scratching, but she squirmed a little bit, probably in fear, so I used a jacket I had in my car to wrap her up (for her and my safety). Then she was calm, and R drove us back home while I sat with Bowie in my lap in the passenger seat.
We took her straight to my bathroom, and got her some towels to lay on. The only things we had in the fridge we thought she might like were some slices of ham, so we tore off a few pieces and offered them to her. She was so delicate--reaching out with her paw to draw the snack in, then taking it in her mouth, shaking it a bit, and devouring it. She wanted more, and we fed her a whole slice before I decided I needed to run to the store and get some things for her--food, a litter box, and some flea shampoo for starters.
When I get back, Bowie was happily crawling in and out of R's lap, and rolling over to let him rub her belly. I petted her for a bit (and picked off an evil tick!) before I decided it was time for her bath. I was amazed at how easy it was to bathe her. She didn't try to escape the bathtub, and barely squirmed at all, though it was clear that the roar of the water frightened her a bit. Again, she wouldn't bite or scratch me, but she gave off such sad little "mews!" that I hurried the process as much as possible.
I toweled her off as best I could, and gave her dishes for food and water. Bowie looked even skinnier with her fur all clumpy and wet, but there was nothing to be done about it. That's when R and I noticed she was breathing funny. We were both worried about her, and R began making calls and researching online to get any helpful information on what we could do to help her, and I'd gotten the number and address of an emergency animal hospital nearby that was open. We were as prepared as we could be, but still felt completely helpless. I just wanted her to be okay, but I knew I'd just have to wait and see. I could take her to a vet clinic the very next day, and there was always the emergency hospital if she started looking really bad.
It was about 10:00 that evening that we figured it out--Bowie was about to have kittens. She was pacing and panting and looking extremely uncomfortable. I felt her stomach, and even though she was the skinniest thing I'd ever seen, I realized there were some hard lumps in that belly. R and I were stunned. After some time of painful looking contractions during which Bowie uttered some heart-wrenching plaintive "mew!"s, kitten number one began to emerge. Bowie allowed us to be there for the entire process, though she was so exhausted, I had to help a bit with drying the kitten off and cutting the umbilical cord. The kitten was a mix of dark and white, and the tiniest, most helpless thing I'd ever seen. An hour later, kitten number two came forth. I really had to assist with this little guy--Bowie just didn't seem to have it in her. This kitten was all white, except for three dark spots on the very top of his head. When I realized Bowie wasn't going to eat the placenta, I went ahead and flushed them, and R and I continued to watch the new little family until we were sure the kittens were suckling and Bowie was recovered enough to clean them and protect them. We didn't have a box, but they seemed content on the pile of towels, so around 4 in the morning, I finally laid down to get some sleep.
I was starting a new job in the morning, and had to be there at 7:00AM. I was exhausted, but exhilarated! Somehow I made it through the day of work, and I called a vet as soon as I was off. He told me to make a comfy nest for them in a cardboard box that the mom could get in and out of. I ran to PetsMart and got a box, as well as some other supplies, and when I got home, I made Bowie and her kittens as comfortable as possible. I didn't want to drag them all to the vet that day, but I made an appointment for the next day (Tuesday) to get them checked out. Bowie was still breathing heavily, and I was worried there might be another kitten stuck in her.
The next day, I took them all in a big box to Noah's Ark Animal Hospital along Cary Parkway. I'd found a "15% off your first appointment" coupon for that clinic on the web, and I needed all the help I could get financially.
The vet there was as kind a man as I have ever met. Everyone there was very helpful, and they were awed by the story I told them of how R and I had found her and she had kittens that very night! "She's so small!" one of the veterinary assistants cooed, looking at Bowie. Bowie IS very small. Their scale weighed her at only 5 and 1/2 pounds. The vet said Bowie was probably just a kitten herself--barely one year old. Bowie was very accommodating to the vet as he shaved her belly and took an ultrasound to determine if there were any more kittens in her. No kittens left in there! He gave her some food to check her appetite, and Bowie ate with relish! They also gave her a rinse to clean her of all the blood from giving birth. The vet didn't recommend giving her any vaccinations while she was nursing kittens, so the only other thing he could do was take a blood sample and test her for feline leukemia and FIV. I also got a de-worming medication--just in case. He said the medicine wouldn't hurt her or the kittens, and he couldn't check for worms without a fecal sample, which I didn't have. He also gave her a Capstar pill, to kill any fleas that might have remained on her. Towards the end of our visit, the vet stepped out of the room, and I heard him talking to the receptionist. "Don't ring up the Capstar, the cat food, or the bath we gave, and give her half off of the rest. She found her as a stray..." I was so touched I almost started crying. That was the best experience in a vet's office I have ever had.
Nothing left to do then but to watch Bowie and the kittens grow... and so far R and I have found much pleasure in doing just that.
Monday, May 16, 2011
What's in a name? (And what's in a blog?)
I got on the computer this morning (after having been woken far too early by the sound of "MEOW!") and decided that now would be a brilliant time to begin that blog I've been thinking about for awhile now. Okay, all logged in, so far so good, and now... shoot! I didn't think about what I wanted to name this blog! For that matter, I don't even have a subject for this blog set in stone yet! Sure, I have some ideas... some stories I want to tell... but what if I give this blog a specific name, and it evolves into something... else? What if the name doesn't fit anymore! Who knew I'd be hemming and hawing over such details at six o'clock in the morning.
My first thought was something about miracles. Specifically--furry miracles. Many of the stories I want to tell revolve around animals. But then again, what if my blog transforms to be about others things as well? "Furry miracles" sounds kind of cheesy, too. Let's face it.
Then I thought about my life, all the changes I've been through, and the theme of "awakening" came up. Because awaking to our lives is an ongoing process, I thought perhaps "Ongoing Awakening" would be a good title. This time, however, I felt it might sound too vague. The poet in me wanted a more dynamic word--something interesting, image-provoking, inspiring.
After browsing my internet Thesaurus for awhile, I came across the verb "kindle." To spark, to ignite, to catch fire, to burst into flame, to become bright, to glow, to become inflamed, to be stirred up, to rise. I love the image it brings to mind--the tiny spark that catches, and grows into something more. "Kindle" quickly evolved to "kindling," which can be used like a verb (ex. He is kindling a fire) or can be used as a noun (ex. He put kindling in the fire). I like the word "kindling" because it draws my attention to another word hidden within it--"kind." I think kindness is critical in the world. It's certainly critical in my own life, and shapes how I interact with everything around me. The word "kindling" made me think of a new poetic meaning--"a small, kind soul." Think "fledgling." Tack a "ling" on the end of a being and it brings to mind something little, or perhaps something just starting out. An infant, or perhaps just something humble and often overlooked.
I'd found my word.
I added "dreams" to the mix because it resonated with me. I am trying to kindle my dreams, help them grow. I think I may also be a "kindling" who dreams--a small kind soul who dreams of contributing beauty to this exquisite world.
Perhaps this blog will help me share those dreams with you.
My first thought was something about miracles. Specifically--furry miracles. Many of the stories I want to tell revolve around animals. But then again, what if my blog transforms to be about others things as well? "Furry miracles" sounds kind of cheesy, too. Let's face it.
Then I thought about my life, all the changes I've been through, and the theme of "awakening" came up. Because awaking to our lives is an ongoing process, I thought perhaps "Ongoing Awakening" would be a good title. This time, however, I felt it might sound too vague. The poet in me wanted a more dynamic word--something interesting, image-provoking, inspiring.
After browsing my internet Thesaurus for awhile, I came across the verb "kindle." To spark, to ignite, to catch fire, to burst into flame, to become bright, to glow, to become inflamed, to be stirred up, to rise. I love the image it brings to mind--the tiny spark that catches, and grows into something more. "Kindle" quickly evolved to "kindling," which can be used like a verb (ex. He is kindling a fire) or can be used as a noun (ex. He put kindling in the fire). I like the word "kindling" because it draws my attention to another word hidden within it--"kind." I think kindness is critical in the world. It's certainly critical in my own life, and shapes how I interact with everything around me. The word "kindling" made me think of a new poetic meaning--"a small, kind soul." Think "fledgling." Tack a "ling" on the end of a being and it brings to mind something little, or perhaps something just starting out. An infant, or perhaps just something humble and often overlooked.
I'd found my word.
I added "dreams" to the mix because it resonated with me. I am trying to kindle my dreams, help them grow. I think I may also be a "kindling" who dreams--a small kind soul who dreams of contributing beauty to this exquisite world.
Perhaps this blog will help me share those dreams with you.
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