This post will probably be different than posts you’re used to on here. It will be long, and you’ll have to excuse me as I cry my eyes out while I write. This is a story about timing, timing I don’t understand right now…and about an adorable little orange puffball of a kitten that blessed our family for 11 days.
Looking back, it all started a little over a month ago one morning at church. Ryan and I listened to a sermon about others’ needs, generosity, and the ability to give. It definitely hit our hearts, and we agreed that we needed to make sure we were keeping our eyes open for when others are in need where we can help. We also needed to make sure we reserved some of our selves (our time, our money, our abilities) for when someone else needed us. Little did we know that God would be calling on us to help someone very soon. I went to work later that week, and was struck to find a little grey kitten at my car when I went out to grab my surgery goggles and scrub cap. She was wet and hungry. I called Ryan and asked if he would mind if I brought her home after my surgery that afternoon, and we agreed that her need was one we could help with. I had to go into surgery, and when I came back out to look for her, she was no longer there. My hope is that someone else took her home and cared for her. I went along my way knowing that although I couldn’t give her the care she needed, our hearts were in the right place for wanting to.
About two weeks later, my mom called me with terrible news. As I mentioned in a previous post, my cat back home was viciously attacked and killed by some stray dogs. Our hearts were so heavy knowing what a tragedy it was, and that my mom had to handle the situation while I was away and my dad was out of town for work. After a 12-hour shift in the ER and that news, I was absolutely drained; I can’t even imagine how my mom must have felt. She is so strong, but this situation was more than anyone should ever have to endure.
That evening, Ryan was leaving for work and found a little orange kitten looking for a warm, safe place to sleep out under his truck. He knew the kitten was too young to be away from mom, nonetheless with a wet, cold night ahead. Much like I did before, he called and gave me a heads up on the situation. We agreed that he should bring the kitten home, because we honestly didn’t think he would survive the night outside alone. He brought home this tiny (3/4 of a pound), screaming, hungry, and scared puffball of a kitten. We had to start nursing him with milk because he was just so small. We went to the vet the next morning for a once-over and got the okay from the vet. He may be small, but he was healthy. On hearing the good news, we settled on the name Cheeto. He spent the next week growing…growing in size, growing in ability, and growing in confidence. He could now run with some sort of coordination (i.e. without falling over), he started eating softened kitten food, and he was learning how to play and have fun. The dogs responded quite well to him. Maverick took ownership of him and was always looking out for him. Goosey tolerated him. Even Tigger was interested in him and would check up on him periodically. It was now a morning routine to enter the bathroom and he would run up to you with his little tail sticking straight up as he cried for us to pick him up, pet him for a minute, then feed him. He was definitely growing. His feet turned into little clubs, his legs sprouted, and he was even getting a full belly. We were so happy to have this new, unexpected addition to our family. We were filled with joy just watching him and loving him.
One Saturday morning, I took him out of the bathroom to let him come out and play. He would jump around the bed attacking the covers, chase the dogs, and try to copy the things Tigger did. After a tiring morning of playing, he curled up next to me on the bed and took a nap. I just enjoyed laying in bed on a lazy day, feeling the warm sun, and listening to him pur. He woke back up around lunch and wanted on the ground to play with the dogs. He was using Goosey as a jungle gym…just climbing all over her. She was so patient and understanding, and just let him for a while. They must have been 5 feet from me at the foot of the bed, she was still lying down and I could see him playing by her when I heard her make a strange noise. I looked down, and saw him walking away from her. Then, he stopped and let out a gut-wrenching meow/crying noise and sat down. I went to pick him up to see what was going on, and noticed his eyes couldn’t focus. He couldn’t walk, he couldn’t see, and his little legs just started flailing. I ran out to the living room and cried to my roommate for help. We put Cheeto on the ground, and his condition was obviously worsening, so I wrapped him up in a towel and was headed straight to the vet. He was acting so bizaar, this was absolutely not the kitten I knew. At the traffic light just before the vet, he stopped flailing about, and came to peace. He passed away in my arms at that moment. Ryan was at work and had to meet me at the vet so we could say our good-byes. We were taken completely by surprise, and beyond heartbroken. This is one of the most tragic situations I have ever known. I’m in the medical field and deal with medical emergencies routinely, I have experienced the death of a person before, but this melted me down to a crying mess of nonsense. I asked the vet what could have happened, and the short answer is that we don’t know. He said it could have been a seizure, a stroke, a bleed in his brain, he could have hit his little head on something, or one of about a million other possibilities. He had no signs of trauma and passed within about 30 minutes of showing any signs that something was wrong.
It was so hard to leave the vet without our sweet little kitten. We instead had this sadness, this emptiness. When we came home, the other animals knew that something had gone terribly wrong; they were very solemn and kept trying to go into the bathroom to look for him. The look they gave us as we picked up his things was absolutely heart-wrenching and Goosey kept sitting with her back to us. I was back working the ER that evening doing my best not to melt back down to a crying mess of nonsense while Ryan was at home attempting to work on things through the night to keep his mind away from the situation at hand. The next few days were unspeakably difficult and I can’t say that either of us handled the situation particularly well, but I guess that’s to be expected. I want to make sure to thank Ryan for being my rock and stronghold during this. He has been comforting and supportive, and I am so thankful for him. We both still feel an emptiness, but each day is slightly more bearable, and I know our God will see us through this and give us the comfort and peace we so desperately need right now. We have to understand that this was not our timing but His, and maybe the reasoning just isn’t for us to know right now. We also have to be confident that we followed God’s will in fulfilling Cheeto’s need at that time. If it weren’t for us, he probably would have died alone, cold, and hungry that night at the golf course at the ripe age of 4 weeks old. Because of us, he had a warm home full of love for 11 days, but to him, he had a warm home full of love for his entire life. We are so blessed to have had him, if even for such a short time. Though it hurts right now, I pray that we won’t harden our hearts to love in fear of hurting so badly again. I’m thankful for our loving family and that we were able to serve God’s will, and I pray for strength, for comfort, and for peace during this time of grieving and sorrow.
