Foster Cat Journal

I couldn't sleep last night; that's two nights in a row. How this happened is completely idiotic: I lost my health insurance so I couldn't go to the doctor to renew a prescription that's been keeping my old lady acne at bay. Since my face exploded with breakouts after my 'script ran out, I got some "gentle" acne face cleanser and a "gentle" spot on treatment at the local drug store. It ended up burning my skin and I accidently got some on my eyelids. The next morning after my "accident," my eyes were almost swollen shut. I tried to deal with it on my own, but it got worse, so I HAD to go to the Doctor, after all. Great.

She put me on steroids, a short course. Guess what? I can't sleep. Not even for a minute. So my eyes are puffy, my chin is burned and sleep is a memory. I was told to take Benedryl at night to counteract the effects of the steroids. It would make me sleepy. Sure it will. I'm not feeling very confident in pharmaceuticals right now, so I'm still not getting any sleep.

In the meantime, one of the side effects of the steroids is that I seem to be crying a lot, or, heck, it could just be because of all the sad things going on in my life, too. Whatever it is, gee, I'm not a lot of fun to be around right now. It's a good thing I went to Dottie's Diner today and got some “rescue” donuts: chocolate on top is best. I think it can cure whatever ails me (other than acne cream eyelid burns).

I can't stop thinking about Bob. How I tell myself that the rest of my journey with him will not be an easy one. How I know that with every cat I adopt, all that joy and love comes with a price, a sad ending, a final farewell. It's a heavy price to pay, but it's the love that keeps me going. For in that pain, is the reminder of the love, too. The heavy weight of sorrow, lightened by the joy of what once was and what will always be in my heart, no matter what.

As I tried to sleep last night, Spencer came over to me and laid down, as he so often does. His head tucked near my outstretched left arm and his back pressed firmly alongside my chest created a perfect cat-human “spoon.” I ran my right hand over his thick fluffy belly fur and he purred. Some of my tension washed away. I was transported to a safe place where I could take a moment to realize how lovely this connection was and how much it means to me. It is SO NOT just a human with a friendly “pet.” It is SO MUCH MORE.

I have to remember to enjoy what is here, right now and not get carried away on a river of fear about what is next.

It's been a similar journey for Maria and myself regarding our dear fosters, Polly, Cara, Chester and their mama, Mazie.

©Foster Mama, Maria. Mazie and Polly have a snuggle.

The good news is that all the cats are showing signs of improvement and are growing bigger and stronger every day. Though they are not at the weight they should be for their age, they're gaining-that's what counts.

There have been many ups and downs, though.

©Foster Mama, Maria. Mazie's eye-here we go again.

After being the first to “recover,” now Mazie's eye is infected. She's already been on new medication for a few days and I've heard she's doing better. She's been spayed successfully and the kittens are weaned. She's just about ready to come to Connecticut to join her forever family (I just know they're out there somewhere right now!).

I'll be caring for her initially. I want to make sure it's safe to separate her from her babies. I hate doing that a lot, but over the years, I've seen some mamas go after their kittens violently. Perhaps it's Nature's way of telling us it's time for them to move on? Whatever the case, I'll make certain the time is right, first.

©Foster Mama, Maria. Mazie, Cara and Polly have a snuggle while Chester keeps them company.

Polly's finally starting to have two open eyes, instead of one. Her coat condition is slowly improving. She looks remarkably like...a kitten. At last!

©Foster Mama, Maria. Polly starting to look like a proper kitten-at last.

Cara is doing better, too. I don't want to breathe a sigh of relief or assume this is it and the babies are out of danger. They still need to make the long journey here and it's very likely they will have a relapse and it will be “Santa's Team”-the 4 month nightmare of sick kittens, all over again. For now, I will take joy in seeing their improvement. They aren't on the transport for about ten more days. Hopefully that's enough time to get them ready.

©Foster Mama, Maria. Cara.

Chester was the only kitten really spared from the worst of the URI/Herpes virus. His weight is good. His coat, fabulous, his temperament is marvelous. This cute little bug has stolen Maria's heart and it's easy to see why.

©Foster Mama, Maria. Chester plays with his tail and shows off his cute belly.

©Foster Mama, Maria. Could it be? Playing kittens? Great news!

The transport is going to be done by Izzy and Mark. Once again these generous folks are using part of their vacation time to include a pit stop in Georgia to pick up some kitties for me and, perhaps, another rescue group. It will be the only private, single car transport I could do without having to go there myself. I've been torn about putting the kittens on the transport, but their mama is ready to go and either I separate them now and get the kittens up here in another month, on a noisy dog transport or try to do a multi-leg transport which would also tax them, greatly. I believe this is my best option for them, but I am concerned about what will happen once they get here.

©Foster Mama, Maria. Polly's gotten bigger, but she still has a way to go before being 100%.

And truth be told, I'm a bit worried about how them being here will effect Bob's health. Will my cats get herpes? How will I handle Bob needing surgery with having the kittens here? If they get sick, too..oh boy. I've rolled the dice and been wrong before. I admit I'll be holding my breath on this one.

©Foster Mama, Maria. “Are you my sister?.”

Some times I wish I had a crystal ball. I could gaze into it and see my future. I'd be able to make correct choices, instead of guesses, but if I knew what was coming, there might not even BE a correct choice to make, but a tough situation to learn how to cope with. We'll see how it goes.

©Foster Mama, Maria. Mazie, Cara and Polly have a snuggle while Chester mugs for the camera.

In a way, it's good I had the trial by fire with “Santa's Team,” but in another way, maybe it would be better if I was still naive about all of this? If only I could turn back the clock...hit the “snooze” button on life for awhile. If only...

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Moonie and Patty at Maria's house just after they were rescued off death row.

They arrived in August from good old Georgia. Their mama, Tansy, was adopted right away. Now it was their turn to find a forever home. I had no idea the journey would last FOUR MONTHS.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Moonie (left) and Patty (right) as they are today.

I'm a stubborn old broad. I couldn't see separating Moonpie and his sister, Pattycake. They always seemed to be an unmatched pair. I knew it would cut down the number of potential adopters, but I had to do right by them. Even if I separated them briefly, they would cry. I just couldn't separate them.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Ringworm I know thee too well! Meh!

A few weeks after they arrived, I noticed a spot on Patty. Turns out it was ringworm rearing its ugly head. I had to lock the sad pair into my bathroom and try to keep it from spreading (which it ended up infecting Blitzen, Nicky and Nora about 6 weeks later...SO FAR!). This added another month to having to keep the cats here. They were already getting big-too big to be cutesy kittens so their chance at being adopted went a tick lower.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Moonie plays with his buddy, Blitzen.

Eventually they were cleared of ringworm and were allowed out of the tiny bathroom to mingle with my cats. They were too big to be in such a small room. They loved the freedom and Blitzen LOVED having friends that were close to his own age. It seemed to be ideal, but sadly one of my cats did not care for the intruders and began peeing all over the house. Many of the other cats began to do it, as well. It was a complete nightmare.

I did my best to reduce stress, give her attention, clean up the mess after mess...everything was being urinated on-even Blitzen peed on the sofa while I saw him do the deed. I had SSSCATS set up. I sanitize-wasehed everything I could. I only let Patty and Moonie out during the day and let them sleep in the bathroom at night, but nothing worked.

I got only TWO applications on the kitties. Each one was approved. Each family came over to see the cats, but it just wasn't right. They didn't want two cats. Moonie and Patty were almost nine pounds! They were bigger than Blitzen, who is a year old. Who would want such big cats?

I got another application last week. A family with THREE boys! The oldest is 11. They had no Vet reference because they have no pets. They wanted BIG cats that could handle the energy of young boys. I did a home visit and I'll just say the home should be called a MANSION it was so huge and very well kept. The family was very very nice AND they were completely willing to feed the cats their raw diet, keep them indoor-only and do whatever it took to keep them healthy. They're even going to use Dr. Larry as their Vet (who LOVES THESE CATS, by the way!). I couldn't have asked for more. The boys were very well behaved and very smart (of course, they chose my cats!). I liked them very much. I felt that Moonie and Patty could take whatever the kids dished out and, once they got used to their new home, would really enjoy running around the 5000 sq ft of space!

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Nicky, Moonie, Spencer and Patty enjoy bed time.

It's always tough to say good bye. It's harder the longer you foster a cat. Moonie and Patty really got under my skin. They had very curious quirks that I loved-including fetching, sleeping on my head and bringing cat toys to bed, then leaving them by my pillow. The one thing that blew me away was Patty. I caught her NURSING ON HERSELF!

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Patty getting her “freak” on.

She'd sit like a person, start to purr, then “make muffins” as she suckled at herself. YIKES! Have I seen it all? Sheesh-YES!

I knew the kitties needed to leave, for any chance of the peeing to stop. I grabbed Petunia, the offender, and put her into the guest room by herself. I thought that while the fosters were still here, she should be alone. The peeing stopped. Not one drop anywhere in the house. Unfortunately, Petunia continued to pee in the guest room and ruined two cat beds-no doubt because they smelled like other cats. Now she can sit on the bed, but it's covered with a plastic mattress cover. There is little left for her to ruin and I see she has begun to use the litter pan for peeing. It's not ideal, but having the peeing stop is heavenly. I hope that after the fosters leave, I can reintroduce Petunia into the household, but I fear that may never be possible. She is the “pariah cat.” She has very high anxiety about everything. I'm going to try homeopathy and I'm going to talk to some of my cat-writer-friends. Yes, even I get stuck and am not sure what to do next. Finding her a new home is probably not something I can do, so I need to work it out.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Moonpie featuring his very swanky pink toe!

Maybe I'm an awful person, but Moonie and Patty did so well here that I would have traded Petunia out and kept them. It's tough to love the kid who just is a pain in the neck and who ruins everything in the house. I was grateful a wonderful family stepped up so I didn't have to be tempted any longer. Last night Moonie and Patty went to their new home and we had a chance to get them settled. I didn't get much of a chance to kiss them goodbye, but all the kisses and photos I could take will never change that it's time for them to go. My heart aches and I'm sad, but I know I'll have more kitties to care for in a few weeks and I need a break.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. My shiny self with Patty. A hug good bye.

On Sunday, Sam and I were in a car accident. We were rear-ended by a glib jerkwad while we were stopped at a traffic light on our way to the book store. Sam is doing well, but I have a sprained back and neck-at least. I'm moving slower than usual and in a lot of pain. Having a few weeks off will give me a chance to begin to recover and prepare for the next arrivals.

Until then, my heart is full of memories of two very goofy kitties who I love dearly and hope that though their journey with me is over, that their next adventure brings them even more joy.

A month ticked by since we rescued Polly, Cara, Chester and their Mom, Mazie. It's been a constant battle to keep them alive. To date there are been about ten Vet trips, one emergency run late at night. Of the four, Polly has suffered the most and is still struggling to recover fully from the dreaded herpes virus infection she got just days after she was rescued.

Her sister, Cara struggled as well, then started to improve, but now has an added complication of picking up another type of URI that's effecting her breathing. Maria, their foster mama, works so hard to get them to turn the corner; has taken time off from work, gotten her sister to come see the cats during the day so they're fed regularly, but more importantly, that someone is watching out for them.

Chester hasn't been hit too hard, knock wood. His mama, wasn't effected too badly, either, but she has a mature immune system. We expected she would pull through all right.

Each sunrise the kittens see is triumph. It means, they lived through one more day. Each meal is a few more calories to keep them alive and get them to grow stronger. Mazie watches over them, encouraging each one with a lick on the face or a comforting purr.

The difficulties in providing care for these kittens, is partially due to their inability to smell their food. First, it stopped them from nursing and caused Maria to take over syringe feeding them many times a day. Then, it was difficult to get them to lap food off a plate. They just didn't understand how to eat. I suggested Maria elevate their plate and that seemed to help, but before that was done, their bathroom home had to be scrubbed down many times a day.

Litter training was a tough road, too. If they can't smell, they can't know the smell of their mama's elimination. What then would help guide them to the litter pan?

And yes, Maria also has other foster cats to care for, plus her own kitties! How she's doing this without having a nervous breakdown, I don't know. She's a tough cookie, that's for certain.

Then there are the costs. One small vial of antivirals cost $90.00. I've lost count of the Vet visits and we don't get a discount. Fortunately the Vets try to be kind about charging us, but it adds up. We also had thought we were going to get some funds covered from an anonymous donor, but that has fallen through. We're going to have to open up our fundraising and ask for more funding. The costs for their care and future spay/neuter is going to break the bank.

We're still waiting for the day when the kittens look like kittens, instead of sad little urchins. Where their joy is measured in how high they can jump after a toy or how long they can purr.

These little soldiers will march on and we will continue to be there to help them along the way.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. Precious gets a hug from one of the Vet Tech's at Eagle's Landing.

Precious went to the Vet. It's the first thing we do when they leave the Shelter. The big question: what was wrong with Precious and what needed to be done right now and what could wait until she arrives in Connecticut in a few short weeks.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. Okay, I admit she looks a wee bit nutty here, but what a lovely coat she has! I like her golden toe (see right rear foot).

Precious weighs just 4.6 pounds. She's not an adult-barely grown. She's only 9-12 months old. A mere kitten. My foster cats are younger than she is and they weigh TWICE what she does.

She's a lovely blend of tabby and calico. Her coat has hints of Maine Coon. Her snap test results were negative for Feline Leukemia and FIV-I always am relieved when we get that result. She had a flea or two, no surprise. She is not in obvious pain, but her lower jaw is broken and one of her canine teeth hits her gum. If left untreated she would adjust and just have a crooked smile, but you KNOW we will not leave her to suffer.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. Inspecting her new room.

Her right front leg has feeling, is warm and has sensation! There is crackling in her shoulder. It is either a broken leg or a dislocation. She is comfortable and can get around with ease, so for now there is no treatment. It may seem cruel not to act right away, but we can move her much faster to the north, to her home, where we can have all the surgeries done that are required. She can recover from the stress of travel without the complication of recovering from surgery. We just know she would break with a URI if we did that.

She is not pregnant and, of course, this cat has probably NOT been spayed. Spaying will be done, as well, when the time comes. For now, she can eat as she pleases and get some rest.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. The paperwork you can see on the bed is the release form from Henry Co. That little piece of paper gave this cat her freedom and her life back.

Bobby drove her to Corinne's. Our new foster Mama. Corinne has loads of experience and many stories of saving little kitties and big kitties, alike. Really with no time to prepare, she offered to help with the blue kittens, then when we didn't need a foster for them and I heard about Precious, I asked if she would mind helping her instead. There was no hesitation, just willingness to be part of this rescue.

Precious arrived and one of Corinne's cats snuck into the room, but Precious didn't mind. They escorted the cat back out so Precious could get to know her new home without added stress. A soft, welcoming bed was just what she needed to take the stress off her injured leg. She purred and relaxed. Wherever she had just been-that cold, scary place, was already a fading memory. She was safe and sound, maybe a bit sore, but in Corinne's warm and gentle hands, it would see her through this tough time. Corinne will also be her chaperone when it was time to leave Georgia forever and begin her new life in the northeast.

©2010 Bobby Stanford. Used with permission. A nice soft bed. No more harsh cage for this injured sweetie.

We're all just pleased as punch that this worked out so well, so far. Thank you, again to Bobby and Corinne for all they did to help this girl to safe haven.

Four Vet visits...lots of meds...lots of fussing, worrying, praying...we find our little wards comfortably asleep. A good sign, hopefully, of better days to come.

Get some rest, babies. Grow. Conquer this URI. Be well!

It was a long night, filled with gut wrenching dread. I got a call around dinnertime that Polly was NOT doing well at all. Her eye was sealed shut and worse, she was SCREAMING. Maria called me to give me this urgent update and while we talked, I could hear Polly wailing. It was too late to go to a “regular” Vet. Our only option was to go to a 24hr ER Vet-also know as: “open your wallet and empty it out. Thank you. Now we will provide your animal with care.”

There was no hesitation. Even if it was coming right out of my almost -empty pocket. Get all the kittens and Mama Mazie to the Vet NOW! Maria had just gotten home from work and was faced with a white-knuckle drive to the Vet. I was in a daze. What to do? I didn't want Polly to die!

I realized I had NO IDEA where Maria was going, so I called her back. She said she was just about to call me to ask me to look up the number so she could alert them to her arrival. I offered to do that for her, getting online and quickly finding the Vet. Then Maria got quiet. She is a tough-cookie, but I could hear her choking back tears. She said she didn't think Polly was going to make it. She said she heard there is a “death scream” that kittens make and that's what Polly was probably doing!!!

I felt my gut drop to the floor and my legs got wobbly. I got choked up, but I really wanted to help Maria. I told her to stay strong, that we were doing EVERYTHING we could for these babies. That if we could not save them it would not be because we didn't give them every chance we could. Some times Mother Nature makes the choice for us, but I have to say, I hung up the phone and cried.

Being 1000 miles away, helpless. All I could do was call the Vet, warn them, then follow their rules by scanning my Driver's License and credit cards and emailing them the info so their bill would be paid. It was the least I could do, but thoughts of Princess FiFi danced around in my head. Her care set us back $2000.00. We were able to raise about half of that in donations and Animals in Distress was abel to pick up the rest of the tab, but this was ONE KITTEN and I had THREE, plus their Mama. Oh boy...I did not want to do THAT sort of math.

Maria got there in good time. They took the family in the back and Maria sat in the waiting room while I sat with my phone in my hand, trying to face eating dinner, until I got an update. I didn't feel hungry. I was too sick. I was imagining what was going on. Time ticked by...an hour...then I get a text from Maria. A cat who came in just after she did came back out...in a box. That really set me off. I didn't want to have any of our kittens pass away. The waiting was grueling for both Maria and I. There was nothing we could do but just keep waiting and say a prayer for the poor kitty who didn't make it.

Another hour passed. Nothing. My imagination was running wild. Didn't they always get the money worked out FIRST before they did treatment? Why didn't Maria get an update?

A third hour passed. I was hoping that other animals were in more serious shape and were being cared for while our family was just waiting in the back room. ANOTHER HOUR LATER we found out, that was the case.

Polly had no fever. Though she was uncomfortable in her breathing, there was no “crackle” sound in her lungs. Her brother and sister were afflicted, but not quite as bad. Polly was crying, I'm guessing, because she was so hungry. If she couldn't breathe through her nose, she wouldn't feed off her Mother-how could she breathe? So the Vet fed each kitten and said they were big enough to get some cat food/baby food/milk replacer. This would make it easier for them to eat. Once fed, Polly quieted down. She must have been exhausted, too.

They made a few other suggestions, like running the shower a few times a day so the humidity would help them breathe. Polly gets some sterile saline and eye ointment many times a day. Syringe feed as needed if they don't lap up the food on their own. Monitor, monitor, monitor.

The family was already on antibiotics since they'd just been to the Vet the day before. They felt there was nothing more to be done just now, so Maria packed everyone up and went home. She told me she was going to take the next day off-for which I was very grateful. I would not want to leave those babies alone until they get to a point where they are more stable...KNOCK WOOD...

But this story is not over yet. None of the kittens are in the clear. Some may improve, while others get worse. Because it could easily come to pass that we will need more and more Vet care, I felt it was time to start asking for donations to provide Vet care for Polly and her family, as well as for any cat or kitten in our program. I'm not asking for much, just enough so we have some protection in place, in case we need to get Polly back to the Vet or to see an eye specialist, if it comes to that.

The donations needed go to Kitten Associates, Inc., my rescue group. We're about to become non-profit so your donation will be tax deductible, retroactively. We just need to wrap up our paperwork over the next week.

Last night I posted info on our Facebook page about the kitties. Thank you for your help and for your good wishes and prayers for this very sweet family. It really helped last night. I'm happy to add that Polly got through the night all right and is resting comfortably with her siblings, as Mama Mazie watches over them and Maria keeps them all safe.

I'm in love with the latest family we rescued. Every photo Maria sends me, makes me grow more and more attached. In her own words, she said she wished she could stay home from work and just watch them interact with each other and their mama. I wish I could drive down to Georgia and bring them home with me right now! I can already tell, they'll be tough to give up to anyone. What a beautiful crew we have!

And at last, we have names!

This is a little girl. She looks like she'll be long haired as she's already sportin' a baby-sized ruff. Since she's a bite-sized cutie, I'm going to call her, Cara Melle.

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Say hello to Cara Melle!

This is our little man. A show-stopper-orange tabby. Another fluffy feline. His name is: Chester Cheetah

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Say hello to Chester!

This is our second little girl. Her markings are very unusual. Her back is dark and light, like salt & pepper hair or the pattern of a hedgehog! I was going to call her, Sonic, but Maria warned me that was a boy's name. Instead, her name will be: Polly PicklePuss

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Say hello to Polly PicklePuss!

The last name we need is for the kittens mama. I'm told she is 2-3 years old and is very very friendly. She's a great mama and I'm guessing this isn't the first time she's BEEN a mama. Her name will be: Mama Mazie

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Say hello to Mama Mazie!

Ahh..if naming them was the toughest task...I wanted to make sure they have names because they've become sick with an Upper Respiratory Infection. At just three weeks old, the kittens don't have any sort of immune system to protect them.

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Cute Cara.

It started with Mama Mazie. Her eyes got watery. She started to sneeze.

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Pretty Polly Poses Perfectly.

We all knew it was just a matter of time before the kittens fell ill, too. It was terrible, knowing they didn't have much time. Every feeding not only helped them to survive, but also gave them the URI. How could Mother's Milk be so good, yet so detrimental to their future?

©2010 Maria Sandoval.

If the kittens were even two weeks older, I wouldn't be worrying so much. There's little that we can do. Maria took them all to the vet yesterday and it was decided to put them on antibiotics-which made Mama Mazie get sicker.

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Chester before he got sick.

The kittens seemed to be okay for a day or so, but...

©2010 Maria Sandoval.

We knew they would fall ill...and they did.

©2010 Maria Sandoval. A watchful Mama Mazie.

With things like this, if it's a viral cause-there are no drugs. Just rest and good food. To prevent a bacterial complication-antibiotics and eye drops and maybe nose drops. I worry. I flash back to Princess or to my own, Blitzen who cost thousands of dollars in vet care, who had to be force fed, who we feared would pass away...and they were OLDER when they first got sick.

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Lunchtime at the Vet.

I hate being 1000 miles away. All I can do is try to figure out a treatment or a supportive ointment or paste. They get lysine and bene bac. I know Maria is doing everything she can, but in the end, it will be up to the mama and the kittens on if they will be able to survive this.

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Mama gets sick first.

I wish I could say they will be ok in a week or so, but I don't know. When kittens get to the age of cutting teeth, it's a precarious time. I've been told that they can pass away during this time for no obviousl reason. Add to that they are now sick...well..even more precarious.

©2010 Maria Sandoval. Then Polly gets hit hard.

I've been lucky to have not lost a kitten...KNOCK WOOD...SO FAR, but I know that will not always be the case. I do know that I will do EVERYTHING in my power to help these cats get well. And get well SOON. If they don't respond to the meds and need more Vet care, I'm going to have to start fundraising to make sure we will have enough set aside if the whole family or just all the kittens need supportive care.

We've been down this road before...the not knowing...the fear...the rollercoaster ride. We just have to take a deep breath and find some faith that these babies will make it so they can come to Connecticut in December and so I can KEEP THEM ALL! I mean, so I can find them great forever homes.

Come on, babies. Get better!!!

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Remember when...the first foster kittens of Kitten Associates arrived in early August. From left to right: Sugar Pie, Cinnamon (front), Yodel (rear), Honey B.

Yodel got to me. I admit it. Being here for three months didn't make it any easier. She wasn't getting any applications-even bad ones. I started to wonder if I'd ever find her a home. As things go with adoptions, out of the blue, I got a promising application at last. A woman contacted me. She was, at first, interested in Honey B. Frankly, everyone has been. Her husband had eyes for Yodel. They decided they'd like to come over and see them both...see how it went. Their Vet reference was great. They let their cats outside, though. We talked about that and it was almost a deal-breaker, but after talking for awhile, the woman realized that one of her 3 cats did not like to go outside. Yodel or Honey B. could stay inside, too and keep her company. We talked further and gee, she's the Fire Marshall of a nearby town. I really felt like not only did I trust her, but I really liked her. She assured me if she adopted a kitten from me it would NOT go outdoors.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Yodel loved the Kong Kickaroo.

We discussed everything else like what to feed the kitten, no declawing, etc. All worked out well. On Friday, she and her very-nice-fireman-of-the-Year-Husband came over. I had Honey and Yodel in my bedroom so they'd be more relaxed and not be bothered by the other cats.

It was mid-afternoon and both kittens were sleepy. They looked up at the couple, then basically nodded off! I could see it in their eyes they loved both kittens, but I knew they only could take one. It didn't take long for them to feel that Yodel was the kitten for them.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. My little sweetie.

We filled out the paperwork. I asked them about fire extinguishers and they told me lots of helpful information-like make sure you have an ABC rated extinguisher-which we have on each floor, but they have to be replaced every few years. So we need to do that. They were just really nice, salt-of-the-Earth people. I felt very comfortable letting them take Yodel and in fact, I didn't even cry as she left.

I felt the all too familiar big lump in my throat as I saw her face peek up over the vents in the cat carrier as she was being taken to the couple's car, but I pushed it back down. It was time for Yodel to move on. It had been for a long time. It was only selfish of me to keep her here and now she'd enjoy the company of a few other cats, as well as a Bichon. I was down a kitten, that left me with 15 cats. A start...

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. The always lovely, Honey B.

On Saturday, as you know, The Halloween Express was adopted. An hour later, another couple came over. They had eyes for Honey B. and no other cat. Their Vet reference was glowing. They answered all the right questions. In person they were a bit odd. They both bickered, but when I asked if i needed to break it up, they said that's how they talk and they were just kidding. It's tough to feel people out. I think it's natural to be judgemental, but I reminded myself that I have to be more open-minded. These people had had cats their entire life. They adored their cats and put them as a top priority. They were VERY gentle and easy with Honey, who, a true calico, was a bit wary of the new people. She began to warm up to them and it was clear that they were smitten with this kitten.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Nap time.

After two other almost-adoptions fell through and countless rejected applications, Honey, who should have been adopted over two months ago, finally got her home. The couple drove over an hour to meet her and said they would drive to the ends of the Earth, if that's what it took. The rest is history...the last of my very first litter of Kitten Associates rescued kittens was gone...just THREE MONTHS after they arrived.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Farewell baby-girls. I will miss you very much.

So now we are at just ten cats-from sixteen just hours ago. The unbelievable flood of urine from my own cats has been almost too much to endure. I've done so much to try to calm them down, clean it up, do things to help them cope, but the only thing I really could do, is get the extra cats out of the house. In all honesty, I have been so stressed by the fights and the peeing that I have begun to unravel. Between every day stresses, the cats, the lack of work, the finding work, the blah blah blah, I realized my temper has been whittled down to the quick and I admitted to Sam last night that I am to the point of being afraid of what I might do if things don't improve. I was thinking about going on meds for awhile. Me being upset isn't going to help things in the house, but me being out-of-control and losing my temper is very dangerous. I've never been an easy-going person, at least to the degree I'd like. Even with all the training I've had-learning meditation, taking refuge as a Buddhist-it's a wonderful guide...it's vital for helping me do as well as I have, BUT...it's been a long, stressful few months with barely a break of any sort. I'm not getting burned out, but I admit to feeling a great sense of defeat.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. No room at the Inn.

This morning was the worst. At 6:45am, Bob yeowled. It usually means he wants to be fed NOW. I can't feed him or else I'm training him that his effort worked and he'll do it again. So I went back to bed. Then, he picked a fight with poor Petunia, so I got up. It wasn't enough, so he came upstairs and peed all over. I started cleaning, then Bob puked some foam. Okay...feed him. He wins. While I was cleaning up, I saw Blitzen sniff the wall where Bob had just been. He lifted his tail and was about to pee, too. I almost died. Not Blitzen. Not him, too. I stopped him before he could do anything, but I found pee in 4 places-which is 4 more than usual.

I went into the foster room. It stunk. One of the kittens vomited on the bed (this is after I had just replaced the sheets a few hours before). Then when I grabbed the bag to scoop the litter pan into, the bag was covered with pee, too and it got all over me. I honestly don't know how I didn't have a break down right then and there.

A few hours later, I went to take a shower. The bathroom really stank of pee. I looked all over. Couldn't find it. I found it when I got out of the shower. It was on the bathmat the whole time. I didn't even realize it and Sam had missed it after his shower.

You better know that I must LOVE cats a lot to put up with this and hey, the cats are all still alive (so far!).

I've lost the ability to find humor in this. There is none. This is plain tough, heartbreaking and difficult. Sam and I have some sort of unspoken pact. We get mad at the cats, but not at each other. At least we seem to do ok and Sam is quick to comfort me-even though I can't even relax when he hugs me any more.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Moonpie and Patty. Still waiting to find their forever home.

Today most of the load is off my shoulders. I MUST get Patty and Moonie a home. They are probably the main cause of problems, but hopefully, now that the others are in their new homes, I'll see some positive changes. Already I haven't heard any fighting. The cats are all napping and relaxed. I have to hope that now I can regroup, clean the rooms up and take a break.

©2010 Maria Sandoval. The next fosters. Sweet Mama and her three babies. We need some names for them! Just not “Santa's Team II”!

It's been a long road, but I'm here for the long haul. I've got more babies coming this way, but I have another month before they arrive. I've learned some things-maybe I need to learn about pharmaceuticals next? I really don't know, but I need to find a way. There are many more cats that need help. I can't give up for their sake.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson

Moonpie (left) and Yodel (right) were born to different mothers, obviously on different dates since Moonie is quite a bit older than Yodel.

That said, I can't get over how much the two look alike!

and they both came from HCCAC in Georgia!

Last night Connie, Sam and I went to visit Princess Fifi. We knew her temperature had started to climb again and we were very worried about her. Her temp was at 104.7°F. The Vet decided to move her to IV antibiotics as they would help her feel better, faster, if she has some sort of bacterial issue. If it was a virus, there wasn't a whole lot we could do except give her supportive care and wait.

VCA Shoreline VREC is a big, fancy building. You can tell by walking in the door that it's going to cost big bucks to bring your animal inside. Before we even took a step, we saw a big pit bull standing in the center of a circle of bloody paw prints across the floor. The dog's left front paw was a bloody mess. The dog seemed to be relaxed and content, even though he was bleeding. He owner was stuck to a cellphone, talking about something. Of course I assumed the dog was used for fighting, but then stupidly realized why would they bring it to a Vet if it got hurt in a dog fight? Then the dog turned around. He had big, dangly balls. Connie and I both got pissed when we saw this. Why this dog is running around intact? We both wanted to yell at him, but realized we'd be outmatched if we spoke up.

We sidestepped the blood, told the receptionist who we were visiting, than sat down and waited. An exam room door was open and we saw a small, white bichon or poodle sitting on the exam table. Her right leg was bent oddly. Connie gasped and said; "oh no, neurological problem!" Then I started to worry they were going to put the dog down. We both agreed we hated sitting in this waiting room. I whispered under my breath; “close the door.” A Vet Tech walked over and shut the door. Neither of us wanted to see what was going to happen next.

After a few minutes, we were escorted through some doors, into the heart of the building. Princess was being held in isolation.

The room was small and filled with a huge bin of used sharps, a garbage can, a table with yellow dressing gowns all over it and a small bank of four steel cages. Three were empty. Each one had a card that read: CLEAN. The fourth, held our Princess Fifi.

When we approached the cage, Princess was sleeping. They set her up on a pretty pink bed. Her food was next to her. There were some signs that she ate a bit of it. We all called out to her, but she did not respond. My heart sank. We were told we could hold her, but just to be careful of the IV line into her front leg. Sam reached into the cage and gently took her out. She was limp.

As he began to pet her, she started to wake up. I looked at her face. It was a filthy mess. I grabbed a cotton pad from a dispenser on the table, wetted it and began to try to clean the gunk out of her eyes. At first, she didn't protest, but as she felt the cool water, she began to stir. There was a fan blowing on us and she began to shiver.

I kept trying to get her cleaned up, but the food and discharge was crusted on her pretty well. I was glad to see her react to us holding and cleaning her. I tried to mimic how her mother might have licked her face as I wiped at it with the pad.

A Vet came in to talk to us. She was about 15 years old. We asked her question after question. She was thinking Princess has a URi. That she is not at death's door, but she is not in great shape, either. That she would eat, but only if someone stayed with her while she ate. That her chest and heart sound fairly normal and her blood work was basically fine. She turned the fan off, realizing it was making Princess feel worse. Princess stopped shaking and just enjoying being held by Sam.

I asked if we could try to feed her, so the Vet got some fresh food and I offered it to her. She turned her head away, refusing my offer. I asked the Vet to warm it up, which she did. It didn't help. I rubbed a small bit on Princess's face. She licked at it, but still refused to eat. I put the food bowl down and focused on petting her. I didn't want to think that this might be the last time I see her alive. If she didn't eat...well...she was already too thin to begin with. I tried to be positive and not “go there.”

Connie and I continued to pet Princess and talk to her. She began to react a little bit more and more, then longer we were with her. I held her for a few minutes, but I was scared I'd hurt her. She was hot in my arms and her coat was not in the best shape. I wanted to just find a comfy chair and hold her for the rest of the night. None of us wanted to leave. We could see our being there was helping her feel better.

A Vet Tech came in to take Princess's temp. Sam helped hold her while Princess fussed. Her temp was down a tiny bit..down to 104.3°F. Her weight was up by 2 ounces in 4 days! We were all cautiously optimistic that maybe Princess would continue to improve.

Then, Connie took a turn holding Princess. By that time, we'd been with her for about 45 minutes. Princess perked up and gave us a “meh.” She began to fuss so I grabbed her food. Connie put her down and showed her the bowl and she started to eat! It always comforts me to see my cats eating, especially the foster kittens. It was even more meaningful to watch Princess lick carefully at her food. Connie put out her hand so Princess wouldn't fall out of the open cage. Every mouthful Princess took, would help her gain the strength she'd need to survive whatever was making her so sick. I wanted to cry. We all urged her to keep eating!

On the way to the hospital, we stopped at Walgreens to buy Princess a little toy. They had a lousy selection, but they did have these big, squeaky toys for dogs. One of them was appropriately pink and Sam and I both thought it might keep her company. She'd have to really squeeze the toy hard, to get it to squeak, so we thought she wouldn't easily be able to set it off. I also found these really cute pet beds. It looks like a grey cat, turned into a cat bed. Very soft and plush. Very cute. I promised myself that Princess would be sleeping in it when she comes back home to us and in the mean time the weird pink pig toy might be a stand in for a playmate.

Sam placed the pig next to Princess. She just stared at it. I thought that maybe she was frightened of it, but then she did the most wonderful thing. The pig has a black cable coming out of the top of it's head that's used to hang it on a display in the store. Princess reached out for the cable and started to PLAY!!!! She tapped at the cable and bit it, then wanted to eat more food. Wow! We were all bowled over when we saw her reach out that paw. It was such a significant sign that she's still fighting and she's still a kitten who wants to play! I wish I'd bought her a box full of toys!

Princess was clearly getting tired again, so we decided to leave. She snuggled down next to her toy pig. We each told Princess we loved her and that she should fight to get better and that we would see her soon-we promised.

We were all reluctant to leave. I made some jokes so we wouldn't start to cry. Just as I turned to leave, I noticed something in Princess's cage. Her blanket had her name on it! I had to ask myself, is this a sign she's in the right place? Was this destiny or just a coincidence? I can't help but wonder if all this was meant to be? But if so, what is next? What is to become of Princess? Will her temperature come down and STAY down? Will she begin to perk up, eat better and get back to the business of being a kitten again? I just don't know. I don't know if this WAS our last visit with Princess.

The night passed without any calls from the Vet. This morning Connie called me and said that Carole had called and found out Princess's temp was “down.” What that meant, I don't know. Was it down a few tenths? Was it down to normal? I have to wait until after 10am to call to get an update. I have a stomach ache. I want to know, but I don't want to know. This has been a rough road and Big O, Little Maria and Pauly have to be picked up in New Jersey today! I need to get ready, but not sure for what. I need to get those new foster cats, but I need to stay home. It will be sorted out. Thankfully, Sam and Connie are going to pitch in and help. I couldn't function without them, but really, I just want to go to sleep, wake up and have everyone be here, happy and healthy.

If you've gotten this far, there's one last thing. I'm going to post a fundraiser here, to help recover some of the money we've spent to get Princess the care she needs. Her Vet bill is over $1000.00 and it won't surprise me if it goes up from there. I've set up at ChipIn widget (above) that will go STRAIGHT to Animals in Distress. If you can help out with a few dollars-whatever you donate is tax deductible. We all know money is tight and I've had to ask more than a few times for help from everyone, so I understand if asking again, so soon, is a problem for many of you. No worries. We're going to try and those that can comfortably help us-even if it's $5, it does make a difference. If you can't donate, maybe you can forward this to your friends and they can't pitch in a dollar or two? Thank you all your prayers and support during this difficult time. It means a lot to all of us-espeically little Princess.