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Old 28th October 2003, 22:40   #1
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Join Date: May 2000
Posts: 1,306
Looks a Little Dead In Here...

WARNING: Long post ahead. Those with short attention spans, ADD or mental retardation, please veer towards your back button. All other traffic proceed with caution.

Wow, haven't posted a new thread here in a while. And no, this isn't an "omgomgomg what's happened to this place, it used to pwn now it sucks" thread. I just want to rant and figured what the hell, for old times' sake...

So, ok, me and my stepdad own a decent size body shop. Of course, the landlord is a sloppy cockmongrel and the back of the shop is one of his many clutter-doms and is in a serious state of disrepair. The roof is majorly leaking and turning into a calming, yet still unnerving waterfall whenever it rains, oil, dirt, trash, cables and wires everywhere, making for a greasy, filthy obstacle course, and broken windows, which allow various stray cats and other rodents in.

So here it is, Sunday, and my stepdad decides to venture back there for whatever reason. Lo and behold, a tiny 2 day old kitten is heard crying from underneath the convertible top of a 69 Cutlass that hasn't moved in decades. Cold, alone, and scared, he brings the kitten home, and, being the sucker I am for helpless animals, I become a "catmum."

Now, I know how to raise a kitten after it's been weened, but before
that? A 2 day old kitten? Nope. Luckily, my boyfriend's sister loves cats, and I ask her to google me some orphan kitten care sites for some information. Needless to say, she responds with an assload and a half of links, which I read and soak it all in like a dehydrated sponge, confident that I'm gonna help this poor kitten survive.

So now armed with all this kitten knowledge and motherly instinct, the palm-sized cutie becomes my priority. He had been doing well so far: he eats regularly, sleeps peacefully and poos fine. He loves to be held against my heart and gently rubbed down; it mimics exactly what his real mother would do and soothes him. Needless to say, within 1 minute of cradling that kitten on my chest, I fell in love with him (her? we weren't really sure, too early to tell really..) That first night was actually a little rough, up every 2 hours on the dot to help him poo, feed him, burp him, then nestle him back in. Hey, it was worth it, he was now like my baby, but without all that pesky pregnancy and labor bullshit getting in the way.

Monday night, I had to go down the shop to finish up a job I was supposed to be finished with on Sunday, but that was before we found the kitten. So my mom, armed with the same info I was, decided it would be her turn to care for the kitten. She was as surprised as I was that it had made it this far and was still strong and healthy. So off I go to work, confident in knowing that my mom had everything under control and would call me if any problems came up. I do have to admit though, however pathetic this might sound, but I actually missed the little guy and couldn't stop thinking about him while I was working.

(Cue sad music here)

So fast forward in time a bit; it's now 4:30 am, and I come in from work. I rush upstairs ever so quietly to check in on him, and find him sprawled, snoozing away with a tiny bit of the milk leftover from his last feeding highlighting his tiny, but almost smiling mouth. Not wanting to disturb him, I just pecked him on his tiny head, then headed for a shower.

Now here I am, downstairs, clean smelling and watching a little bit of TV before catching a quick nap. Just as I was falling asleep, I'm startled by my mom, hysterical, running downstairs with the kitten and his box, flubbering in between sobs about how he started to choke, and that she tried to help him, but as soon as she did, he fell still. My heart stopped; I reached in, picked him up and cradled him against me like I had been doing the whole time he was in my care. He "looked" up (his eyes were still closed), stretched out, then curled up, and slowly stopped breathing. I laid there with him against my chest for what seemed like an eternity before I admited to myself that he was gone.

My mom blamed herself, saying that it was her fault for not being a good "catmum" and not being able to do more for him. In actuality, no it's not her fault, we both knew from reading all those sites that kittens who lose their real mother in their first week have a slim chance of surviving. But he was progressing so well, I guess we were in denial about that part, assuming that our care and love would help overcome any sicknesses he might have had. But it didn't, in the end it just wasn't enough for him. It's amazing how attatched I had gotten to him in a mere 2 days; when he died, it felt like a piece of my heart was torn out and mashed repeatedly.

And here I am now, having just recently buried him in our backyard in a cookie tin with an angel cat on it, wrapped in this rabbit fur collar he liked to sleep on and now typing out my angst for random people to read and browse through. I'm not completely sad about his dying though, it's better that he went after he had a few days of loving rather than to die in the back of that Cutlass alone and helpless. We did everything we could, sort of magically being turned into mother cats. But to see, up close and personal, life taken away so easily from a little creature that truly didn't deserve it hit a nerve in me somewhere. His life was the smallest of any pet I have ever had, but I can pretty much guarantee that his short span of life will stay with me forever. I know this sounds worse-than-Hallmark sappy, but it's the truth. His little existance served as a reminder for me on just how fragile life really and truly is. (ok ok, I'll stop with the annoying gushiness, but I can't help it, I'm an emotional woman ;P) I only wish that I had gotten the chance to take a picture of him as a keepsake.

So here I am, a wreck from losing my baby, a baby that could fit in the palm of your hand with plenty of room to spare. I know it doesn't rival major losses in other peoples' lives, but for now, it's important to me. It's amazing that I have more compassion for animals than I do for humans, but then again, humans usually get what they deserve, whereas animals simply fall victim to Mother Nature and abusive people. I don't really know where I'm going with this rant, or if it even makes sense the way I'm expressing it, but oh well. Heh, I can't even begin to imagine how fucked up I'll be if/when I have to put my 12 year old cat down. It'll probably be about a 12 page rant then. =P

I'm not looking for any sympathy or "sorry" posts, I'm not trying to be a pity-attention whore, I don't even care if anyone replies or not, I just needed to get this all out. So yeah, sorry about the uberlong double-length bible on this; I know it's alot for what seems like such a miniscule event. But you know how us women are, yap yap yap...

If you're still reading this post, congratulations and thank you for your time! You have an excellent attention span and will be reward- Oh look, something shiny!

PS: Spare me the "Everytime you masturbate.." line, I know the real reason he's gone is because you jerkoffs just can't stop playing with yourselves. See! It's all really YOUR fault!! Yeah, that's right, I'm talking to you, the one with your hand constantly stuck in your pants cause you have nothing better to do! Get off your lazy ass and go do something productive that doesn't involve porn! Won't someone please think of the kittens!

edit: Aye nead Hukded one Foniks, plzkthnx
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