Cinderellen

It was another day at the shelter; the end of a long week; animals coming in from cruelty situations, rearranging cages, too few animals being adopted out…

And then a little black kitten with a smidge of white was brought in….

A disabled person had found her, and immediately my heart went out the both the Good Samaritan and the little kitten; here was someone who had their own challenges in life taking time to help a creature less fortunate. If only we’d all take that time out of our busy schedules…

When she came in, her mouth was swollen; she couldn’t close it at all, and there was a wound on her forehead, along with irritation in her ears and left eye. We didn’t know what was wrong, but there was speculation: maybe someone threw boiling water on her, or she had a broken jaw…..there were many theories abound as to what had brought her to us; most of them blaming some cruel person…

In the meantime, we had to check her in, which meant drawing blood for an FeLV test, vaccinating her, getting her started on antibiotics, and putting her on the schedule for the next vet visit…and oh, yes, eventually naming her :)

I still remember how feisty this kitten was when we had to restrain her to draw blood. Here was this poor creature with a jaw/mouth injury, yet still she was fighting us tooth and nail just to be restrained. I couldn’t help but admire her spirit.

We set the kitten up in our sick room, with orders for antibiotics and A/D gruel (A/D is a soft, high calorie food that we feed to sick animals). I remember setting her up in a bottom cage and giving her the gruel, which she readily lapped up. I was hopeful; if she could eat, then she could live. Yet I was worried; here was a kitten that needed more attention than we could give, and to make matters worse, she was in the sick room. For those of you who have never worked in a shelter, not only are they overcrowded with well animals, but sick animals don’t stand much of a chance because of limited space and poor ventilation. At this point, several scenarios are running through my mind…..

The next morning, I am assigned to clean the sick room. I tend to this kitten first, administering antibiotics and offering her gruel. And I amazed at what I hear: this poor little creature who has been through so much is purring! I immediately go to the kennel manager and tell her that I want to foster this kitten, but if the vet finds injuries beyond our scope of repair, I will support euthanasia….I am trying so hard to be realistic and not get too attached, but I know it is already too late….

Hope springs eternal, and later that morning; my boss comes back with this kitten in tow!!

It seems that her injuries are not serious and not the result of abuse; the vet thinks she bit an electrical chord. She is all mine to foster (/adopt ;) ).

I give this kitten a name: Cinder-short for Cinderellen, after me. I bathe her at the shelter,
and then take her home. I set her up in a safe room, until she has her second set of shots. After that I introduce her to the rest of my herd. She blends in well creating her own niche. I notice that she is losing the hair on one said of her body (a temporary result of her injuries). My husband notices that Cinder is not only settling in, but that I am referring to him as her “daddy,” much to his feigned dismay...

Eventually, I made the adoption official, in spite of my husband’s half-hearted protests. If truth be told, I always knew she was mine from the very beginning. Besides, how could I bring her back to the shelter? She’s already bonded with me and her “siblings” and besides, she’s a black cat, which would decrease her chances for adoption (unfortunately, many people are superstitious about black cats). So it was settled; I had her spayed through the shelter, and filled out the paper work to make it official. She was now #9 in our little family.

Cinder has grown into a lovely cat and has healed from her injuries, with one exception: she has a smooth tongue. Evidently all of the barbs on her tongue were burned off, and have never grown back. The only problem it creates, is that she makes mats when she grooms herself and I eventually have to take her into work to be combed and bathed (she is so bad at home!). Needless to say, all of my colleagues are quite intrigued by a kitty with a smooth tongue.

Cinder has the same spirit she did when I first met her; she is a fighter and that has always inspired me, especially during the times I most want to quit. If we paid more attention to our animal friends, we could learn so many more lessons about Life.

Each of my kitties has a lesson they have taught me. This is but one of many lessons…

Ellen 1/21/07