05/26/2025
Late last night, I had to make the heartbreaking decision to let Jett go.
I’m devastated. Some foster kittens leave a deeper mark than others — and Jett was one of those special souls. Though our time together was painfully short, she made it known that her life mattered. And it did.
When Jett arrived, she was already so fragile. She had a cleft palate, was severely underweight, and struggling to breathe. I thought something felt off with her chest — and on Saturday, our veterinarian confirmed that she also had pectus excavatum, a congenital deformity of the chest. While both the cleft and the chest deformity can be surgically corrected, her pneumonia was simply too severe. She needed to recover before we could even think about fixing anything else.
We placed an IV catheter, added stronger antibiotics, continued her on oxygen, warmth, round-the-clock care. But by the evening, she had declined. Her little body was too tired, and she was suffering. Letting her go was the kindest — and hardest — thing I could do.
Even knowing I did everything in my power, I can’t help but replay the what ifs. What if I’d gotten her sooner? What if I’d pushed harder to get them to surrender her? It’s hard not to carry the weight of that.
But here’s what I do know: for the time she was here, she was deeply loved. She was warm, safe, and cared for. She mattered. That sweet face, those bright eyes — I will never forget them. Jett was a tiny, fierce fighter, and I’ll carry her memory with me always.
Fly high, baby girl. 🌈🩷