Monday, February 25, 2013

Embracing the Cliché: How my Rescue Cats Rescued Me


I know, I know….I used to roll my eyes when I heard people say “I didn’t rescue my animals; they rescued me.”  I didn’t understand it.  Then I started rescuing animals and suddenly it all became clear.  2011 and the first part of 2012 were very frustrating for me.  I was no longer working on campus and had to get a “real job” in Waco.  Unfortunately, finding a job for a PhD who is a short-timer to boot is not an easy task.  I was relegated to temp jobs with lousy pay that were not at all what I saw myself doing.  To make matters worse, in April of 2011, I had to put my beloved friend, Sassy, to sleep after her kidneys finally wore out.  Then kitten season happened.

Kitten season happens in the spring when rescues, humane societies, and animal shelters are positively inundated with little balls of fluff born to stray cats or cats whose owners couldn’t be bothered with spaying their pets.  Dozens, even hundreds, of kittens that are highly susceptible to all manner of illness and intestinal parasites are euthanized because they cannot stay healthy in a shelter environment or, if they are too young, are still reliant on bottle feeding and require more work that most shelters can provide.  It is usually around this time that shelters and rescues take to Facebook, practically begging anyone who might be interested to become a foster parent so that some of these kittens might have a fighting chance at life.
 
Laila (top), Trek (middle), and Chilli (bottom): Night One
In May, 2011, I gained custody of my first two foster kittens, named Fiyero and Elphaba.  Sadly, Elphaba was too sickly and did not make it, but Fiyero is doing simply wonderfully.   He became my first foster failure.  The true test, however, came nearly a year later.  The Humane Society of Central Texas sent out an urgent message on their Facebook page in late-March, 2012.  A family had surrendered 24 cats to the Humane Society (9 adults and the rest kittens) and the kittens desperately needed to get out of the shelter.  Most of the kittens were between 3-5 weeks old, barely old enough to survive without mama.  I contacted a nearby cat rescue run by a friend of mine and told her that I could take a few kittens, not bottle babies and no major health issues.  She picked out three kittens for me from the bunch and told the Humane Society that I would be by to pick them up.

Right off the bat, I noticed that all three kittens (two girls and a boy) were completely flea ridden.  They were also really thin but with the tell-tale sign of intestinal parasites.  And all three of them had what is scientifically termed “eye gunk.”  They were not healthy by any stretch of the imagination, but they also weren’t direly ill…yet.  After a thorough bath, all three started to exhibit their own unique personalities.  Trek was my little adventure boy; Laila was a fighter; and Chilli, well…Chilli was pretty chill.  Suddenly, despite working a low-paying job that I was WAY overqualified for, I had purpose.  I had these three little stinkers who, at only 4 weeks old, still needed a lot of help. 

Trek with Iba, Day Three....This was the day before
Trek's brush with Death
From the beginning, Trekkie chose me.  No parent, foster or otherwise, should play favorites, but Trek was my favorite.  He loved my lap.  So, I was especially sick with worry when, the first Saturday I had them, I opened my bathroom door to let the heathens out of their little tile-covered prison.  Chilli and Laila tore out of the room like it was on fire, but Trek just sat on the towel I had put on the bathroom floor.  He was alert but seemingly unable to move, like his feet were stuck in cement.  He was also incredibly dehydrated.  Of course, it was a Saturday, so only the emergency vets were open and they are outrageously expensive.  I called the rescue and was told that I should do what I could for Trek over the weekend and if he made it and still needed to go to the vet on Monday, we could set that up.  24 hours later, after force feeding him 4ccs of unflavored Pedialyte every 2 hours, Trek was finally out of the woods.  If he hadn’t chosen me before, that certainly cemented it.

Even though Trek was out of the woods and he and his sisters were mostly healthy after that (not counting the Great Canned Pumpkin Debacle of 2012), they still needed a lot of help to become halfway decent cats.  I had a lot of assistance in this regard from Iba and Fiyero, but the transformation of Trek and Laila and Chilli kept me occupied.  It gave me purpose.  It kept me from going crazy in my dead-end, low-paying job.  I rescued these kittens.  I medicated them when necessary and cleaned up messes and taught them what was and was not acceptable behavior (though Trek and I are still working on this).  But they rescued me too.  Without them, without their constant need for care and attention and also the constant amusement they provided, I would have been miserable.  So I have embraced the cliché. 

Why is this important?  For a couple of reasons, actually.  First of all, kitten season is upon us once again.  Throughout this country, humane societies and animal rescues will be begging for foster parents.  In Stillwater, Tiny Paws Kitten Rescue is kicking things into high gear.  The city has given Tiny Paws a building and renovations are on-going.  They still need help, both financial and of the manual labor variety.  They also need fosters.  Holly routinely offers foster training during kitten season for those who are interested.  Check Tiny Paws’ Facebook page for more details.

In Waco, big things are happening.  The Humane Society of Central Texas is working with local rescue groups to reduce the number of animals that have to be euthanized.  They will all need volunteers to make it through kitten season.  The Humane Society, MARC, Fuzzy Friends, and Starfish Cat and Kitten Rescue are all great organizations that are looking for help.

Trek giving his sister a hug, December 2012
The other reason for this blog post is more personal.  Trek and Laila, the scrawny, flea ridden furballs that actually rescued me last spring turned one today.  After several trips to the vet, Laila’s abandonment issues and subsequent imprisonment in a DIFFERENT bathroom, and several more trips to the vet, these silly, sweet, playful, troublemaking little creatures are now strong, healthy, silly, sweet, playful, troublemaking big creatures.  Trek climbs on EVERYTHING and thinks any open door is an invitation.  Laila plays with the tails of Iba and Trek as well as her own and loves to snuggle on my lap.  I have invested a lot of time, energy, effort, and money into making sure these kittens survived to see their first birthdays.  In return, they have blessed me in ways that only another animal person can possibly appreciate.

2 comments:

TINY PAWS KITTEN RESCUE VOLUNTEER said...

Thanks for your fun article and blog, 'Embracing the Cliche': How my Rescue Cats Rescued Me' and thanks for mentioning Tiny Paws Kitten Rescue in Stillwater, OK (www.tinypawsok.org). We share your pure joy (and sometimes pain) in fostering kittens. With funding for our new building and amazing volunteers, we'll have much more Joy in the future. All good things your way!

Unknown said...

Awwww as I'm reading this Simon is snuggled up next to me "ma! Tell me the story of my long lost siblings!!!" Lol. They are big furrballs indeed!!!! Purrballs, too!!! So glad you took Laila home to complete your family! Thanks for everything you did to make sure these kids saw one year!!! We miss you in Texas!!! -molly