16/08/2024
It has been a stressful couple days.
I got the email with the offer to swap my four kittens for some bottle babies, and at this moment in time, my home is open for bottle babies, so I agreed to the swap. I went to the shelter to do the swap and learned of these bottle babies' ordeal. They came from a mom who was a barn cat who had disappeared and abandoned the babies. When they came into the shelter, they were cold, so the shelter had them in an incubator to warm them up. There were five of them. My limit is three bottle babies, so I agreed to take three, and another foster stepped up to take the othertwo. Because I am a veteran foster parent I took the critical kittens. When I brought them home and ensured they were warm, I tried to feed them, but they were struggling, unable to latch, and with every drop of formula I got in them, they spit right back out. Their weights were low, and I was concerned, but I kept trying and trying to syringe feed them and got in as much formula as I could. During the next feeding, I knew they needed warm food asap and more than a few drops. I realized that they needed to be tube-fed if they were going to survive the night. We had no idea how long it had been since they had eaten. I later found out it had been over 12 hours. They were floppy, and I could feel their ribs and spine; their eyes had quite a bit of pus, and they were small for their age. Luckily, I have a friend who is also an amazing foster parent who supports me and other foster parents. Her name is Karen. I reached out to ask if she had any tubes and if she could give me a refresher lesson on tube feeding because it had been a couple of years since I tube fed, and sometimes protocols change. So I packed up the babies and went to her house. She fed the first kitten, and I did the other two without issues. I remembered all the steps. I got up every two hours and tube-fed the three babies through the night. I was very concerned about the other foster mom who had the other two, knowing that my babies were critical and I know it takes a lot to get them through it, and I wasn't sure if she had the support that I did. The next day is a big blur, but I'll try to recall how everything happened. In the morning, I noticed that my kittens were not doing well. One of them would just lay there with its mouth open, slightly sighing and trying to breathe. The other one sounded funny and wasn't looking good at all. I took them to the clinic to be assessed. We all knew that they were critical, and so they sent me home with lots of meds. It looked like that one definitely had pneumonia, and some things were just not right with the rest of the litter. I came home, fed them, put them in the incubator, and tried to get a nap. I went into my foster room to potty and feed the babies after my nap, and I found that the kitten that I had named Tiger had passed away. I held Tiger for a minute, said goodbye, and wrapped Tiger up in a blanket. And the kitten that I had named Bird was struggling badly. Thankfully, Bug was and still is hanging in there. I went into a slight panic/anxiety/sadness spin of emotions. I had my daughter grab my phone and contact all the people who needed to be contacted, and I called my good friend Karen to help walk me through what to do because I wasn't thinking straight and was utterly exhausted. I quickly fed Bug, wrapped up Tiger in a blanket, put Bird in with Bug, and we rushed them to Poulsbo Animal Emergency and Trauma Center. When we arrived, they took the kittens back to be assessed immediately and contacted the shelter. Dr Jen, a shelter vet, called me, and we discussed what was happening. Then, she called the animal hospital. Dr Jen told Animal Hospital that she had complete confidence in what I thought should happen with Bird. Despite enduring multiple foster losses recently my good friend Karen came to the clinic to support me. The vet and I discussed and agreed that Bird was suffering, and it wasn't likely Bird would recover. The vet supported my choice of humanely letting Bird go. With my good friend Karin beside me, I held Bird and petted her little head until she went over the bridge. Thankfully, Karen took Bug for the night so I could get some sleep. I went to pick Bug up in the morning and he finally latched to the nipple and was eating well. Then, I took Bug in for a chest x-ray, and we were met there by the other foster who had his sibling. She had lost one of the siblings the day before, and they were checking on the remaining one. Unfortunately, with the remaining girl, her X-rays didn't look good, so she had to be humanely let go. I shed so many tears and emotions for kittens that I've only known for a day and a half and for some that I never knew.
I am at home with Bug. He's doing well so far, but it's still critical. I spoke with my foster coordinator, Leora, about my worries and intrusive thoughts. Did I do everything I could? Did I do everything right? Did I contribute to their decline? Could I have done something differently? These are all the things that run through my head when a foster passes. Leora assured me that I did everything right. I've lost Foster's before, but I'm finding now that I'm older and I've processed a lot of my trauma, I'm allowing myself to feel the hard feelings. It hurts. I'm sad and crying, but I won't stop fostering. These tiny animals need humans to step up and be a voice and advocate for them because they can't. Fostering is how I give back to the community, the world, and my soul. Fostering is healing and devastating, but I will never stop. Fostering kittens has brought me so much happiness, laughter, and has healed me when I was hurt. I am thankful for Karen and her husband, Mike. I am grateful for Leora and Betty, Dr Jen, the kind woman who took on Bugs' two siblings, and all the staff at KHS and the staff at Poulsbo Animal Emergency and Trauma Center. I received nothing but kindness and support from all of them. Now I've had my tears, gotten some rest, and I'm ready to help little bug fight until he's done fighting. Thank you to my sidekick, my daughter Zoe, for stepping in and acting when I couldn't act, asking when I couldn't ask, and making sure I was ok when I couldn't care for myself. Thank you to my husband for supporting my fostering for 18 years and many more to come. Rest in peace, Tiger, Bird, and siblings 1 and 2. 🌈🐾❤️
