u s e y o u r h a n d s

Thanks for asking about the kitties. Here are some photos from when we first got them, and now at one month old. The difference is astonishing.

All of the sweeties are alive! In fact, the runties have finally reached a pound and are playing and running around with the bigger two. Thanks to the fine doctoring at the Chicago Cat Hospital they’ve made it — and the runtie with the funky eye is almost back to 100%.

Brian and I have decided to keep all four, brining our kitty total to five. Well, pending the results of their FIV and leukemia tests. Natasha isnt’ so hot on the idea. Even though we haven’t formally introduced them, I’ve held her up to look through the window and them and she just hisses and growls. I hope she gets the f over herself.

Anyway, we’ve named everyone. The two runties are George (a girl, after my childhood cat) and the Dragon (I always thought they looked like tiny dragons and the Shedd is having this komodo exhibit with the theme line: Believe in Dragons. And since I feared they would die, I tried to.) The big tabby was called Chunk but now we call him Chuck. And Cubby the Black is still the Cub. He’s got a little bear face. And everyone uses the litter box.

Keep your fingers crossed, and get your feral cats fixed. PAWS Chicago has info.

One of the neighborhood ferals, Judith Stripes, had kittens under our neighbor’s porch. We peeked over the fence one day and I saw what looked like one largeish kitten in a birdcage. So we left a note on his door about no-kill shelters. He came over with the birdcage containing four tiny, tiny kitties. Probably four or five days old. And still nursing.

There’s one tabby and three black ones. The tabby is big, and we call him Chunk. There’s a slightly smaller black one with a face like a little bear. Then there are the runties, my little dragons. Giant paws, tiny bodies, and bat-like faces. After four days of trying to feed the runties and watching them get sicker and sicker, I took them to my pals at the Cat Hospital of Chicago. These ladies are wonderful. I sat in the lobby, with the runties in a box, sobbing. Everyone was so sweet, and cooed at the sick little ones. We weighed them, and they’re only 5.5 and 6 ounces each. Chunk’s probably nearly a pound. And one little dragon still had his eyes shut and the other had only one eye open. The vet told me that they were quite sick, and although they might not make it, she gave them a good shot if I tube-fed them. So she showed me how to insert tubes down their throats into the tummies so I can inject 15 ml of food per feeding — instead of the 5 that I had been getting down. And then she gave me oral and ocular antibiotics, plus stool softener.

That was Tuesday. And although it’s only Thursday morning, my little dragons are still alive. Their fur is fluffier, they’re starting to gain weight and poop. Plus, little no-eyes has both of them open. And mr. one eye has the other open, and it’s beginning to clear up. Chunk and Little Bear and grooming the runties and everyone seems to be getting along. i can’t tell you how happy I am that they’re perking up, and how scared I am that the runties will still not make it. And although Brian won’t let me keep four more kitties, I hope that the runties can stay with me. One boy, one girl. I think Natasha can handle that. I hope. So far, she’s been pretty okay with a bathroom full of kitties.

It’s like being a mom, with feedings every 3-4 hours, caring about poop and weight gain. It’s exhausting and exhilarating.