associated in random thought

choosing life.

six am, and i've been awake since five. it's going to be a long, busy day; i need my sleep. but i toss and turn just the same.

and so i'm up for the timebeing. i poured a big bowl of life and woke up my ibook. moe is snoring beside me on the couch. the world is still dark.

yesterday was a day of fear.

my sister, eileen was in town for the weekend, ostensibly to hang out with helen and me. she was just in it for the kittens, however. i'm surprised she even left the kitten room at all.
so, naturally, the kittens fell in love with my sister, with her high-pitched enthusiasm and kisses. they respond to voices now, and they try to purr and pounce and wrestle. the cuteness is something you could not handle; trust me.

mister gunther, firstborn, first-everything, was very, very docile. or so it seemed on saturday night. his siblings have grown to double his size this week, and though helen and i have harbored a little worry about his smallness, we tried to shrug it off as "someone's got to be the runt, right?" he was active. he was eating.

until yesterday morning.

eileen pointed out, as she played with pablo and shiloh, that little gunnie was off by himself in a corner, face down on the tile, sleeping. we tried to rouse him, but he couldn't keep his eyes open. the other kittens knocked chloe over to get a little boob action, and gunther wasn't interested. i put him on a nipple, and he simply fell asleep, face down, again. and, my god, he was suddenly even smaller and skinnier than the others. i could feel his ribs, his spine.

i immediately went to the store to get some kitten formula and bottle. helen tried to feed him, but he wasn't interested. she finally got him to swallow about a cc of milk with a syringe, but he vomited a few minutes later. and then came the diarrhea. sticky, nasty kitten diarrhea.

eileen, mother of four cats, was in tears. panic began to build in my belly. let's go to the emergency vet, we agreed. outrageous prices be damned. gunnie wasn't going to make it otherwise.

i can't recommend this place enough. they advertise compassion. they're telling the truth. we were seen immediately. the vet tech apologized profusely to little gunther as she stuck a thermometer up his teeny ass and took a fecal sample. the vet, dr smith, is a young woman who is not yet burned out by her profession. she was kind to us and gentle with gunnie. after conducting what few tests she could do on a half pound kitten, dr smith advised us that gunther has roundworm, as well as some bad bacteria. he most likely contracted the parasite from his mother; we had no idea that it can pass through the placenta. the other kittens may have it too, and so the whole family is going to the "regular" vet today.

the vet gave us a dewormer, antibiotic, and vitamins. gunnie has to be fed every 2-3 hours a combination of formula, wet kitten food, and yogurt (not simultaneously--that would be nasty). dr smith warned us that gunther may be too small and fragile to survive the aggressive parasite and bacteria. and that there may be health issues going on that can't be diagnosed yet, but she added with a very human smile, "i've got a good feeling about this little guy."

sober and grateful, we sped off to the airport to get eileen to her flight on time. (yeah, it was cancelled. she had to wait. i think she lost her bag too. the one with ALL of her makeup. if you know eileen, you know that this is trauma.) i got the great idea to pick up a bottle of champagne for mimosas on the way home, while helen and gunther waited in the airconditioned, running car. it seemed like such a great idea until i plopped back down in the drivers seat, handed the champagne to helen, and prepared to drive home. i ran out of gas.

running out of gas at a supermarket with its own gas station doesn't seem too much like a pickle, right? wrong. i ran in flipflops all fivehundred feet to the gas station, and waited in a long line to ask for a gas can. "we don't got loners," apathetic cashier told me when it was finally my turn to talk to him. "we got some for sale in the back."
"okay, how much are those?" i asked.
"expensive."
i pointed to my car--dude i'm right THERE--and he shrugged. "we got some for sale in the back," he repeated.

of course i bought the damned can, for twelve dollars, i might add. i filled it with a whole gallon of gas, and trudged back to the car. and, naturally, i then proceeded to spill gas all over my hands and leg. helpful helen had to help pour--those gas cans are made quite cheaply--as i stood there cursing unintelligibly.

no one stopped to help us the whole time the car was sitting, blinkers on, in a really inconvenient part of the parking lot. everyone just drove around us like we were roadkill. no one stopped at all, until we were covered in gasoline. a broken down van pulled up, and a scruffy hick kinda guy rolled down his window. "hey, you got a light?" he asked. um. yeah, we're covered in gasoline, we replied. "i'm not worried. i just need a light." he dangled an unlit cigarette out the window.

we are covered in gasoline and we are not giving you fire, we repeated. he sped away.

and we laughed for the first time all day.

epilogue: gunther is still with us. he is taking the feedings and medicines well. his energy is returning, and he is suckling his mama again. we're definitely not out of the woods yet, but he is being quite the spunky little fighter.

i've got a good feeling about him.

Posted by bananie at August 28, 2006 5:12 AM | TrackBack