Siamese kittens are always born pure white. Pinky Pie was no different than any other sweet little newborn siamese, though he was much smaller than his sisters. As he lay in the nest cuddled up to his mama, all I could see was his bright pink nose and ears sticking out of his thin fur, hence the name Pinky. There was a fourth kitten born that was slightly smaller than Pinky, but he did not make it passed the first couple of days. We were very sad to have to say goodbye to the little thing and felt sorry for our loss, but poured our attention onto the healthier ones of the litter.
A couple weeks went by and I watched as the two stronger girls forced their way to mama so they could eat, but Pinky did not seem to have the strength to fight for some milk. He seemed to grow weaker before my eyes and one day his mama moved him out of the nest. The first time I found him in the middle of the room, I thought that maybe he had strayed too far from the nest and could not find his way back. I gently laid him inside the closet near his sisters and helped him latch on to eat for a bit. Later on, I found him once again in the middle of the room, and once again I put him back. It was not long before I had to start searching for him around the room and would find him cuddled in a corner under the bed trying to keep warm. My heart began to break as I began to suspect that Kia was moving him away from the other kittens. Were we going to lose little Pinky as well? My suspicions were confirmed one morning when I watched Kia carry him out of the nest, lick his head once, and dart back inside the closet. Mama cats have a way of knowing when one of their kittens is not well and do not want them to endanger the other strong ones. If the pitiful guy was going to survive, I would need to intervene on his behalf.
I placed Pinky into a laundry basket with a warm blanket and hurried to the store to get some kitten formula. With much persistence and determination, I began feeding him with a dropper, one drop at a time. Kia often came by to see what I was doing and after licking Pinky's head a few times, would leave, satisfied that I was doing all I could to help her little boy.
The vet did not give me much hope that Pinky would survive, but he gave me a little tube of high protein food to see if we could put some fat on his bones. With tears in my eyes, I offered the kitten some of the brown goop on my finger and to my surprise, he licked it all up. My hope was restored - he just might make it through this!
A few days of this and gradually he began to put on some weight. I still fed him milk from the dropper and he lived in the basket during the day and cuddled with me at night. I can remember how loudly he purred one evening after I had fed him as he cuddled close to my heart. I had become his life saver and he viewed me as his mama now.
My emotions were a mess. One day I felt he would make it and on other days I felt like it was useless to continue trying to keep him alive. All the time and effort put into the kitten might be for naught! That is how I felt the morning I heard him walking around the room, crying sorrowfully. I got up and found him going around in circles. It looked like he was chasing his tail, but it was like his eyes could not focus and could not go straight forward. I picked him up and tried to get him to stop. He was making me dizzy! I prayed desperately, asking the Lord to help me know what to do. Was this the end? It did not look good at all! Later on that day he seemed to snap out of it and once again he almost seemed fine. He romped and frolicked with his sisters, getting into mischief under the cabinets. Watching him, I knew I could not sell him. Maybe we could give him away, but after all the time I had invested in him, I had grown to love him dearly. Besides, how can you give a cat, that had a parasite damage his brain, away to anyone anyway? Joe made the final decision one evening and cheers could be heard around the house as he happily told them Pinky was going to always be one of the famiy.
Today, Pinky is still a well loved cat in our home. Yes, he is quite different: he has no coordination, is clutsy, and often is as dumb as a doornail, but he is beautiful and as sweet as can be. He loves with his whole being, grateful for his chance at life. He shows his love by showering us with kisses and licks our necks until they hurt. His mama, Kia, is often annoyed by the fact that her son is still here and every night at 10:00 we can hear them racing down the hallway - Kia hissing madly, and Pinky slamming into the walls and doors as he tries to catch her, but they only add to the charm of our household. :) I love all three of our kitties and anyone who walks through our doors would have to agree that we have the happiest, friendliest cats in the world.
2/2/2012 07:01:53 pm
Sweet story, Cara. My Bridgette was the abandoned runt. I had to bottle feed her. She was around for twenty years!
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