Who Approved That?

WARNING: THIS POST DISCUSSES A POTENTIALLY UPSETTING TOPIC. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. YOU'RE “SAFE” UNTIL THE SECTION AFTER THE UPDATES ON THE FOSTER CATS, NEAR THE END OF THE POST.

I'm very sorry to not have been tending to my Blog over the last week and a half. Every day that passes that I don't write, bothers me a bit more.

Initially, my plans were to talk about the lovely birthday party-a SURPRISE party, that Sam held for me, now over a week ago. He really pulled the wool over my eyes. I had no idea until the very last second-when I hoped, against hope, that maybe even though he had a bad cold, even though he said there could be no birthday this year, even though most of my friends said they were busy that weekend, it would happen.

It was Connie's doing, too. She called me around noon on my birthday, to say her cat, Big O was very sick and could I come over and help her give him a bath? Oh yes and “Happy Birthday.” Big O was covered with poo! She sounded so sad, I realized it didn't matter if it was my birthday, so I got changed, grabbed some things to help with the bath and told Sam I was off. He knew I was hungry so he said he'd come with me and we could go eat afterwards.

Connie lives a mile away. As I started to pull up her driveway, I realized that Sam had asked me to “kill” a half hour before we went to lunch, then Connie called me, it was too much of a coincidence. Maybe something was going on at her house? Surely not. No. I was going to break up with Sam. I was really mad at him. He'd hardly talked to me for weeks. He didn't even notice when I got my hair done (like a porn star-that's what my stylist called it)-and it wasn't just because he didn't give me a birthday party. The near-silent treatment was killing me!

Then I noticed two cars in the driveway, but certainly it couldn't be cars I knew. It must be a...then I saw it...a “Happy 50th Birthday” banner over Connie's front door. There stood Marcia, Super-Deb and Connie, all waving and shouting Happy Birthday and here I am in a t-shirt with a glow-in-the-dark Cheshire Cat on it and crappy pants. Thank God I had a change of clothes with me! I looked over at Sam and was torn between slapping him and kissing him. I never had anyone throw me a surprise party in my life. It was really nice.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

No sooner than we walked in the door, I realized there was no sick cat, so I got changed, then we all left for lunch. As I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, I saw my dear nephew, Ryan and my sister, Anne! Another suprise, yay! This was going to be a nice day after all.

But then I walked into the dining room at the restaurant. There sat Mary. My other sister. I didn't see anyone else for a moment. My mouth fell open. Mary had LIED to me, first saying she was coming to take me to lunch and there was no way I'd be alone on my birthday, then she begged off saying her cat was sick not 6 hours later. She had been in Baltimore for a book show (Mary is a Writer and Graphic Designer)! Then I realized she must have driven up from there. What a shock!..and there sat her partner, Shelly...and my friends Irene and Jennifer I.! I love those babes! I was literally speechless and it took all my reserve not to burst into happy tears.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Nephew Ryan shoots the flames while his mom, Anne watches.

We ate at a Hibachi style restaurant and had TWO chefs taking turns either trying to set fire to the place or tossing food bits at our faces (since most of us couldn't hope to catch the food in our mouth). Everyone was happy and getting along well. I never wanted it to end. I had a nice lunch and lots of lovely gifts. I missed my Mother and Father so much, but they were there, too, in spirit (and later that day, I discovered my Mother had sent me a message, too. More on that, in another post).

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. The cake on the left is what I ordered for myself, thinking there would be no celebration of any sort. I cut out the frown and turned it upside down later that day.

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I have a lot to tell you about the cats-especially Bob. The short version is, to me, he seems to have turned a corner and is doing better. He seems to have gained weight. Tomorrow he gets Chemo #9. I'll find out if he gained any weight then. A surprise blessing is that some of his fur is growing back ever so slowly. It's just peach fuzz on his head, but I can see the subtle stripe of his tabby pattern in the fur.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob and the gang on the electric blanket

I took him to a Dermatologist and she confirmed he as a terrible case of ringworm and that only he can really fend it off and with cancer and a bad immune system, the odds aren't great. We give him baths and add a special lotion afterwards. He's lost half of his coat, but I think, just maybe it's slowed down. He seems comfortable and he seems a lot more like his old self.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

The kittens are still struggling with URI's and this and that. Cara has grown some, but one of the kittens has been vomiting. I don't know if it's Cara. We're closer to the day we can call her healed, but we're not there yet. The kittens are as big as their Mom, now. I think Chester will be even bigger. He is the most darling cat in the world. He really is sweet.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Cara and Chester, bigger and better every day.

MacGruber is still here, too. Got a tiny dot of ringworm on his paw, so he seems to stay here another month and another month...he's a bit like gum stuck on the shoe...but very cute gum.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Okay. I'm suppose to adopt this cat out! Really?

I'm bringing Noelle to Connecticut next week, along with Amelia, another Henry Co. Cat we rescued last year. It's time for them to get their forever homes. I need to write more about that soon.

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The main reason I need to write is I need to tell you what happened and why I haven't been able to write more than this post-we had a family tragedy and I'm struggling to cope with it.

A few days ago, Sam and I were to visit his Mother in Manhattan. We were going to have a belated birthday party for me and Sam's adult daughter, Kate, whose birthday is two days before mine. The day before we left, Sam told me his mother was having trouble walking. The pain from her hip, which she broke six years ago and has long since healed, was back. We worried that if she couldn't stand for a long period of time, that we needed to come up with ways for her to fix meals that didn't require much effort. The plan was to finally buy her a microwave whether she liked it or not. Get her some wholesome meals she could just pop into the microwave and eat without standing over a stove or getting up and down to check on a pot on a burner. We put a lot of time into planning how we'd manage to get all this stuff into her apartment, since we'd have to double park to get the car unloaded. Parking is a bear on the upper West side on a weekend.

We thought we had it all worked out. We got a bit of a late start, but we got everything done. Sam called his Mom to tell her we wold be there soon. She didn't sound right. She said she might need to go to the ER. Sam pressed her as to why. All she said was, “You'll find out when you get here.”

This was not something his Mother would say. She has always been the most polite and kind person I have ever known. She was raised in the south and that sweetness never faded away even though she's lived in Manhattan most of her life. What was going on?

Sam drove as fast as he could to NYC. We had an hour to go. I texted his daughter. She called her Grandmother and found out that she was asked to get there soon. Clearly something was terribly wrong. Had Sam's 82 year old mother re-broken her hip? Why didn't she call 9-1-1? Why was she waiting?

When we got to the apartment building, I got a txt. Kate was there. I said we would be right up. I stayed with the car, as Sam ran up to her apartment. A neighbor came out and signaled to me to follow him up the block to take his parking spot. As I was about to try to park the car, I saw Sam in my rearview mirror. I got out of the car. Something was wrong-really wrong.

“It's bad up there. It's a mess...you need to be calm about this, but get up there now. I'll park the car.”

“What happened?”

“She slit her wrists. Prepare yourself. She's alive, but it's a mess. Just get up there.

No one had called 9-1-1. I think everyone was in shock. As much as I wanted to help, I had a bad flashback and my heart started racing. Years ago, my Father took his own life. I didn't want to go through this again, but I went upstairs and walked into the apartment filled with dread and absolute fear.

Poor Kate was kneeling on the floor, next to the sofa. She wasn't saying a word. I could see Sam's Mother's white hair on the arm of the sofa. She must be laying down. I walked over to her and tried to be calm. It was very gorey, but she was conscious. I asked her what she did and she told me that the pain was so bad in her hip that she just couldn't take it any more. That she felt so bad she couldn't do anything any more and didn't want to get in the way. I asked to see her wrists. I saw that the blood was congealing. This was good, but she injured both wrists and up her arms. I talked to her for a few minutes. Everyone was calm, almost matter-of-fact. As if nothing terrible had happened at all. It was surreal.

I told her that we all loved her and it would be so terrible if she left us without letting us even say goodbye...that we didn't know she was hurting so much and that we wished she could have told us so we could help her.

Then I did something weird. I'd bought her a hyacinth. It was in bloom and so fragrant. I held it up to her nose and asked her to smell it. She smiled as she smelled the sweet flowers, even though her skin was as pale as a sheet and her robe was crimson. I reminded her that it was finally spring. That even on our worst day, another day will follow and maybe that day we will smell the sweetness of a flower or see the sunny sky and it will remind us to try to get to the next moment, and the next after that. To not give up.

I calmly told her she needed some help and that I was going to get that for her. She said it was ok, if I really thought she needed help I could do that (as if anyone could to STOP me from calling for help!!!) I left the room and called 9-1-1. In less than 5 minutes, 5 NYPD officers were at the door. A few minutes later, the EMS arrived. I had to stay away from them so I could completely fall apart and cry. I felt so bad for Sam and Kate and his Mom. I worried about Kate, who found her Grandmother just moments before we arrived. I was in a bad place, myself. I couldn't believe it. It was not about me, it was about his Mother and getting her help. I pulled myself together and did whatever I could to help until she was ready to be taken to the hospital.

It was about 10 hours before we could get his Mother admitted. We waited in one room after another. She barely was tended to at all. We had to fight and make a fuss for every little thing. No one was “supposed” to make a decision or do what was needed. I never so much “passing the buck” in my life.

She's stable now. She had to be admitted into the Psych ward, though she is the last person on this Earth I would ever think belongs there. I don't know for sure, but I think she just wanted the pain to stop so badly that maybe this was the only way anyone would really hear her? If that's the case there's a big disconnect that needs to be fixed. Between her Doctor putting her off for almost a week, to even our relationship with her. We all need to learn to stop being polite and start getting “real” with each other.

Since Sunday, my life, Sam's life and Kate's have been turned upside down. There is so much to do, so much to try to figure out. Will Sam's mom ever be able to live alone again? How can we get her help? Who can pay for these things? And who is going to clean up the apartment?

The last question, I answered. I cleaned it up. I didn't want Sam or Kate to have to do that. Even though I've known her for almost 20 years, I was still the person most removed from this situation, so I got to work. I just did what I needed to do. I started to clean away more than just the accident scene. I started to clean everything. I wanted to put life back into that apartment. I wanted the space to feel happy again. In a way, it was like cleaning my Mother's house after she died. It was so nice, freshly painted, re-carpeted, sparkling, even. It made me sad she never go to see it. I hope that Sam's Mother gets to see this. Her home, which was dark and sad, will be clean, fresh and even have lots of color and comfortable places to sit. Perhaps the gloom, washed away, will give his Mother something she's needed in addition to being free of pain, maybe it will give her some joy, some delight in her day to day life?

Perhaps this is the start of her new life? Perhaps it's a new start for all of us?

I don't have the answers. I can tell you I had a breakdown the night after I cleaned things up. I couldn't stop crying. Other than my little birthday lunch, it's been one bad thing after another for more than a year. Every time I feel down, I look to the positive. I get myself back up. You guys lift me back up, heck you catapult me back up! But with all of those blessings, that love and generous support, sadly there is a darkness that remains in my heart. The same thing that drove Sam's mother to do what she did, the same thing that drove my Father to do what he did...it's there, waiting. I am terrified one day I will lose this battle to stay in the sunshine, but I am equally determined to not give up and to help Sam's mother do the same.

One of my friends said something to me once in jest; “Life. It's not for everyone.” He couldn't have been more right.

I've rarely been so excited to write about a new product. It's so top secret, I'I had to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement. I've been lucky, heck, honored to be the ONLY BLOGGER TO BE GIVEN BEHIND THE SCENES ACCESS TO THE MOST DAZZLING NEW PET PRODUCT TO COME TO MARKET SINCE CAT LITTER!

I can't even believe I'm going to write this...inappropriate cat urination problems have been SOLVED with the modification of a simple device that's been around since the 1930's.

I give you, Flunette™

Let’s start with the obvious question: What is this thing? Flunette is a silicone container, a reusable device that collects the urine of female cats rather than allowing it to be released, then collected (by you) as clumped waste in litter pans. The container can be worn continuously for up to 12 hours, including overnight, before it must be emptied. This just means a quick rinse off with their Feelin' Good Feline Wash Liquid and you're ready to go.

The Flunette is based on menstrual cups, which were first used in the 1930's. It was a reusable alternative to tampons and pads that collects the menstrual flow rather than absorbs it. With a slight modification and adjustment downwards to a small size, the Flunette was born.

There’s a learning curve, for sure. But there’s also a payoff. Flunette is comfortable, well at least that's the theory. Your cat can do everything she normally does – take a nap, eat, play with a mousey toy – but no matter how mad or territorial she may get, the last thing she can do is empty her bladder onto your favorite chair, the wall in your bedroom or even on your kitchen counter! All her urine is safely contained inside the Flunette until YOU empty it.

Made of silicone, the Flunette (above) is flexible enough to ensure comfortable insertion. Note: I wear kevlar gloves when I insert the device into my cats. I find it's safer for us both if I take that simple precaution.

Insertion is a snap. Just press the sides together to collapse the container area then insert open end first. The tapered tip should face OUT. It's the handle you'll tug on later to remove the Flunette from your cat.

For those of us who suffer, as I do, with cats peeing all over their homes. The Flunette is a lifesaver. Sure, it was difficult to insert the device into my cat's urethra, but I found that if I gave her a bag of treats, she was so busy gobbling them up, she didn't notice what was going on in her back end. Yes, I did get clawed and bitten the first few times, but never so badly I had to be hospitalized and like anything else, persistence pays off.

I can't believe how clean and fresh smelling my home is now that I have Flunettes in all my female cats! Now that they stopped spraying, the males stopped, too and they didn't even need to wear the cup!

In the big picture, using a urination barrier device is better for the environment since it reduces the need for cat litter! Now Fluffy will only need the litter pan for moving her bowels, though don't tell, but there is a rumor that Flunette will soon have a companion product; Turdtainer.

Think of the money you'll save on cat litter, since a Flunette device can last for several years with proper care. Your back will thank you, too. No more lugging heavy bags of cat waste to the trash!

Flunette is:

Made of 100% medical grade silicone

Hypoallergenic and latex-free

Environmentally friendly

Rinse carefully with soap and water (or Feelin' Good Feline Wash)

As with all of my Product reviews, know I did not receive any payment for my review, only a sample of the product and the wash. My results are simply that, mine! Your results may vary. Also, make sure you have health insurance before you purchase this product.

Ordering information for Flunette is HERE. The Flunette is $12.95 for one and $16.95 for two. The Feelin' Good Feline Wash is $6.95. Both products will be available April 31, 2011 for one day only, so ACT FAST! Please share this post with ALL your fed up, peed upon friends! You'll be glad you did.

When you take on the responsibility to provide a home for a companion animal, you owe it to that animal to give them a safe, clean, loving place to live for the rest of their life. There is no excuse to do anything less. It's one thing to live in spoiled surroundings, yourself, but it's another to force an innocent creature to do the same.

Home Soiled Home.

That's exactly what some people in McDonough, GA have done. They lived in a perfectly nice home and slowly, but surely, drove it into ruin by their lack of care or concern for anything other than themselves. They didn't care to take out the trash. They couldn't be bothered with putting food away in a cabinet or making the bed. The things we do in our daily life, that we don't even think about, these people couldn't be bothered with. Were drugs involved? It's likely, but I don't know for certain.

They couldn't be bothered with providing their animals with ANY vet care. The cats had litter after litter of kittens. Who knows what happened with the dogs? I can't be compassionate about these people for what they've done to their pets. Frankly, if they want to mess up their lives, that's their path, but to drag their pets into it-that's where I get mad.

You know you're white trash when...

I don't even want to refer to these people as people because clearly they live like animals and that's making animals sound bad. They're disgusting, self-centered, thoughtless. Their animals roam free, not ONE of them is spayed or neutered. Two of the cats are pregnant. Two of the cats, somehow are not, yet.

What would you do if you lived near these people?

The windows are too dirty to photograph through.

One of our own, found out. Our foster mama, Maria lives next to this house. She saw the ruin, the filth. She knew if she called animal control the animals would be put down fairly soon. So, she started a campaign to get these people to do the right thing for their animals. She told them there are low cost Spay/Neuter clinics. There are vouchers to take to any Vet. She offered to get the cats vetted and pay for it! It's not that tough to do right for your pets, but there was one excuse after another as to why it couldn't be done. It was plainly clear that they didn't even understand why taking their cats and dogs to the vet was even necessary.

Maria's blood boiled.

And this is the nicer part of the house.

I spoke to her at great length about what to do. The people were moving. Their current house was foreclosed-no surprise there. They said they would get the cats taken care of after they moved-saying they should have some money by then. Right. I'm sure they were really going to do that. Maria sensed the same “BS.” Maria pushed, asking to, at least, let her get the two that were not pregnant, spayed.

Looks like Christmas got out of hand.

After she thought about the life these cats would face if they stayed with these people, she realized that the only thing she could do was to offer to take the cats and find them a good home-the LAST thing Maria has time or space for, but Maria followed her heart.

Such a contrast. Warm, friendly, yellow walls that are surrounded by garbage.

It's not convenient or easy or cheap to take on two more cats. Maria really struggled, especially because a few of her cats have needed emergency trips to the Vet and it took a big chunk out of her finances. I'm sure she wished these people would step up and do the right thing, but she knew they wouldn't and in fact, just as they were going to move away, they changed the date to a few days earlier, which turned up the heat on Maria. She HAD to act NOW. She couldn't save all their animals which made her feel terrible. She didn't really have the ability to take on these cats, but she did it-she took the cats into her home.

Introducing, Muddles & Cuddles! Which one is which?

Their names are Muddles and Cuddles. One look at them and you'll fall in love. Despite the dreadful living conditions they've been exposed to, they are very affectionate four year old silver tabbies. How these cats managed to not become feral or fearful is a testament to their fortitude. They've suffered for years at the hands of "people" who had no concern for their well being. I doubt they had anything decent to eat and they certainly did not have a litter pan to use or a CLEAN place to sleep.

They were taken from a box of free kittens at a Walmart to live in a dump for the next four years of their life. They deserve far better than this.

They love each other so much!

As with many animals who've faced dire situations, these two siblings are too bonded to separate them. We're looking for a needle in a haystack—someone who would love to adopt BOTH CATS.

Muddles & Cuddles have been completely vetted, are negative/negative for Feline Leukemia and FIV+. There is no adoption fee since this is a private adoption. The cats have been in 2 week quarantine so they can be safely transported out of state. They are located in central Georgia.

Maria tells me they're SO AFFECTIONATE that their tails POOF out when you pet them! How funny is that? They crave attention so if you want to be completely adored by two sweet sisters, then this pair is for you.

She still smiles after all she's suffered. What a great kitty!

We WILL provide transport. What we would ask of you is to fill out a pre-adoption application on Kitten Associates web site and we'll process your application and make arrangements for you to adopt these extraordinary cats.

If you have any questions, contact ME: info@coveredincathair.com

And pretty please, would you be so kind as to SHARE this post with your cat loving friends? We'd love to see these two get a great home soon and we can do that with your help!

With all the horror and tragedy going on in the world, I've found myself unable to write. I don't see the point in talking about my cat having cancer or my foster kittens having a cold. It just doesn't seem worthy of description when thousands of Japanese people, and their pets were washed away in a tsunami or crushed in the 9.0 earthquake last week and the ones who survived, 450,000 are in shelters without much more than the clothes on their back.

I also find myself not wanting to look at the situation with Bob. It's so sharply painful, that perhaps I'm looking for reasons not to think about it, not to write about it. This isn't a cheerful story. It's one of great heartbreak, but just for one person and that doesn't seem to matter compared to so many worse things going on.

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©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob last month.

Last month, Sam and I had to make a choice. Either stop the weekly chemo treatments Bob was getting because we can't afford it any more or find another solution. It cost $600 a WEEK and we'd have to do it for 27 weeks. I haven't worked in a very long time. My finances are in the dumps. Bob was doing well on Elspar and Vincristine, but we asked Dr. I. if there were any other things we could do that would be as good, but not as costly. He suggested we could change Bob over to using Mitoxantrone. It would be every four weeks at $400 or so. We could certainly make this happen. I felt such relief that the burden of the costs would be lifted and we could give Bob a fighting chance to live.

I asked everyone I could about whether or not we should stop a successful protocol that we cannot go back to if the other chemo doesn't work. We were told the new chemo was well tolerated and that they had seen very good results with it so we felt good about moving forward.

So Bob had his first treatment about 5 weeks ago and the Vet now said it's $600.00 and every THREE weeks instead of every FOUR. The next morning after treatment, Bob's ears were filled with hot pink spots. He was itchy. He was eating, but not great. Dr. Larry thought it was the ringworm being ignited by the chemo. Dr. I. agreed. There was little to do other than to treat it topically.

It got worse. Slowly, at first, Bob's head lost fur. He looked terrible, but he still ate well and seemed perky. I still pushed the Vets about if it really was ringworm or a reaction to the chemo. No one could tell me other than if it was chemo it was a very rare reaction. That the fur would grow back after chemo-if we get that far.

Dr. Larry said that maybe a dermatologist would take Bob's case but with having FIV+, lymphoma, ringworm, etc., that it was unlikely there was much to be done. Then, he said if I was any other client, he would urge me to euthanize Bob to spare the other cats in the household from getting the ringworm. At the time I nodded, said I understood, but the more time has passed, the angrier I've become. I know what Bob is facing. I've had ringworm in the house for a year. He knows that. Most of the cats are fine, knock wood. MacGruber has a spot on his foot. That's it. It's a fungal infection. It sucks, but that's all it is.

Bob's losing his dignity, along with his fur, but he's still Bob. He was still eating and purring and hanging out with us. To even suggest I put him down...

He said we could give Bob a bath and it might help. At least he tried.

So we did.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Bob either enjoyed the bath or was too tired to fight us. As I washed him, I started to see just how much fur he's losing...and he's losing it rapidly. His belly, which was shaved when he had surgery to remove 1/2 of his liver in December, had grown more bald. His head has comical spikes and clumps of fur, but he's mostly bald now. His paws have small spots of fur loss. It won't be much longer before Bob has no fur at all. His once beautiful orange fur, will be gone, maybe forever.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

I'm freaked out and don't know what to do or where to turn for help. I feel the Vets have washed their hands of this but maybe no one can help now? I'm not a Vet. I'm just someone who loves their cat and is trying to help him, but now it's hard for me to even look at Bob. When I pet him, I can feel every bump in his spine. He's not eating well for us and he spends day and night in our bedroom, on the bed, where we placed an electric blanket for him to snuggle on. He moves very slowly. Clearly something has happened and I'm not sure I can fix it. He's had the sniffles for a day or so and the other day he had "the runs." Maybe Bob's brewing a URI and that's the cause for some of his recent woes? Maybe I'm kidding myself? I can hear Dr. I's voice; “It's probably a progression of the cancer.”

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob, this morning, with MacGruber looking on.

I'm sure the blanket is the big reason Bob doesn't hang out with us any more, but I can't help but feel a stab in my gut when I pass by the bed he usually sleeps on and see it empty. I know Bob is upstairs, but I know, too, that one day that bed will be empty and Bob will really be gone. He's leaving us already, gradually, but we can see the progression happening when we couldn't before. The day is coming. I am not ready. I never will be.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

In a statement dated February 28, 2011, Tim Callahan, the CEO of WellPet, makers of Wellness cat food (which I have heartily recommended to many people over the years) has announced a VOLUNTARY RECALL of certain lots of Wellness Canned Cat food and certain lots of the Chicken & Herring flavor.

The cause of the recall is inadequate Thiamine in their product, which can cause, a reversible deficiency that can be treated if caught promptly.

I just called Dr. Larry. He told me that I'd have had to feed this food to my cats for 6 months or so for there to be a problem. The problem is that CARA and her FAMILY have been getting this food for MONTHS-since they were old enough to be weaned! None of them are showing signs of Thiamine Deficiency, but at such a young age, could this have effected them more acutely?

I am very concerned about their health and with them being chronically sick for months...is this something that added to their problems? Is thiamine the only deficiency or is this the tip of the iceberg?

I certainly hope that the good folks at Wellness are being honest. They're recalling ALL their canned food with the certain “best by date,” instead of trying to figure out which flavors of which best by dates are effected.

The lots involved in this voluntary recall are:

Wellness Canned Cat (all flavors and sizes) with best by dates from 14APR 13 through 30SEP13

Wellness Canned Cat Chicken & Herring (all sizes) with best by date of 10NOV13 and 17NOV13.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. The dreaded cans that are part of the recall.

I found that I had a few cans that were effected by the recall. I decided to go back through my bags of recycling and check those cans. The further back I went, the MORE cans I found that were part of the recall. I can only imagine how many, in reality, I fed. I've been buying Wellness by the CASE-and most of those cans are long gone. In the end, I found 18, 12 oz. cans.

I called WellPet at 1-877-227-9587 to arrange for return of the product and reimbursement. They answer the phone right away and are very accommodating. Gee, are we surprised? Okay, I'm being mean. They were very nice and will take care of this right away.

That said. I'm sitting here with a big stomach ache, wondering if these kittens have been compromised in some way and no coupon or refund is going to fix that.

Cara's spirit is as big as the world. Her green eyes glint with mischief. As I hold her, a deep purr kicks in, celebrating the simple joy of being alive. Her chest rises, quickly falls, then rises again. When her breath leaves her, I can see her ribs. When I pet her back, I can feel her spine. She is so small and underweight, yet her drive to live is so strong, so vital, how can we lose her?

If we can't find the answer to WHY Cara is not able to keep her food down, we WILL lose our little girl.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Cara's ultrasound didn't give us anything to go on. Not a clue. Things seem to be normal. It's not perfect science. It can't detect everything, but so far x-rays and the ultrasound tell us nothing.

After a week at the Vet, I brought Cara home. That night she started to vomit. I tried to be extra careful, only giving her a small amount of food. Some times it would stay down, many times, not. I didn't know if it was because I was giving her too many tiny meals or the wrong food, or I was waiting too long between meals. I just couldn't figure it out.

What did seem to be clear, was that continuing to give her antibiotics was NOT a good idea. She's on a very heavy dose of them to stave off this damn URI she's had since she was barely a few weeks old. She seems clear of the URI and yesterday I stopped giving her some of her meds. With one antibiotic left, even that made her vomit after I gave it to her.

I called East Lake, one of the Vet's I work with in Georgia. They told me that in her records they noted that Cara was having difficulty eating and that they thought she had something STUCK IN HER THROAT! What?!!! And they didn't do more to find out what was going on? At the time, Cara was being syringe fed because she wouldn't eat on her own. Polly and Chester would not eat on their own, either. They were having a tough time being weaned. Maybe that was it? Or maybe not.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

I took Cara back to see Dr. Larry this afternoon. The one thing we haven't done is run a blood profile on Cara to see if there's anything going on there. Even if it shows nothing alarming, any future Vet care is probably going to need recent blood work as a prerequisite to treating her.

I told Dr. Larry about what I'd found out in Georiga. He called his partner, Dr. Andrew, to come into the exam room to talk about Cara since Dr. Andrew is also on her case. What I didn't expect was what came next.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

They wanted to talk about what to feed Cara and what else might work for her, since what I've been giving her has made her vomit sometimes. They BOTH said to feed her DRY FOOD! Here it comes, the big talk I've been trying to avoid. Feeding cats a raw diet or even just grain-free canned is like being part of a religion whose followers are persecuted for their beliefs. I felt my blood pressure tick upwards.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

I'm not the sort of person who does well with conflict. I never know the perfect thing to say to make my case. I tried to be respectful, but here they are, telling me they see cats do great on dry food and here I am, knowing from their OWN LIPS they do NOT get more than a few hours (brought to you buy big industrial pet food manufacturers) nutritional training in Vet school. So who are they to tell me to feed crap to my sick kitten?

They said that cats used to be obligate carnivores, but not so much now. That's bull-hit. They wouldn't even accept that feeding grain, an irritant that cats cannot digest, would be bad for a cat with stomach problems.

Then they said that why don't I just try it. Spend $5 on some dry food instead of spending $1000.00 to have Cara 'scoped.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Really? Really? Do they think I'm as close minded as they are to feeding a wholesome diet to cats? I was so offended, I almost walked out. I would feed Cara spaghetti and meatballs if it would help her.

I kept going back to the fact that Cara's been on 8? 9? antibiotics over her 17 weeks of life. She needs to be on NOTHING other than a bland diet. I said to them, would you eat a bowl of cereal after you had a stomach ache or eat something bland? They went back to the dry food debate.

Cara had her blood drawn. I asked them to tell me how much food she needs to eat so I know what the target is. Cara has lost 2 ounces. This is really scary. She now weighs 2.14. Her sister is TWICE her size and Chester is pushing 5 pounds. I just wanted to get OUT of there. Just give me the info-let me leave.

Both Vets tried to be respectful and kind, but they also kept reminding me that they had many years of being in Vet practice-which again, great for diagnosing ailments, not so great at understanding feline nutrition! It left me feeling like I'm just a person who “takes great care of their cats and is the best and they love me and I'm great, BUT...they have all these years on me.” (hey, don't placate me, ok?!). How many years have I been studying and learning about feeding grain-free? FIVE?!! I know that counts for nothing even though I've cured a diabetic, fixed life-long breathing problems, unblocked a blocked up cat, reduced obesity in an overweight cat, greatly improved blood test results in just my cats-not to mention the other cats I've helped with IBD and other chronic conditions. They don't see that. I'm just a lay person on a rant.

I think I need to start looking for a new Vet. Even writing this makes me feel sick. It's akin to me breaking up with Sam after almost two decades of life together. I don't take this feeling lightly, at all, but I can't go somewhere where we part company so seriously. Proper nutrition is the basis for good, lifelong health. Why Vets don't start from this basic point when they do an exam is beyond my comprehension. "What are you feeding your cat?" should be one of the FIRST questions a Vet asks about their patients-not something that's not even considered.

Then, the final straw. Super-Deb, who I trust as if she were my own beloved sister, told me to feed Cara the dry food. Just do it. For her (Super-Deb not Cara). See how it goes.

I left the Vet feeling like I was going to scream and burst into tears (which I did after I left). I drove over to the pet food store and bought Cara some more grain-free canned food and I bought a tiny bag of premium dry cat food. I felt like a Judas.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

When we got home, I gave Cara the dry food. She seemed interested in it, but really only picked at it and left half of the tiny portion on her plate. I don't think she understood it was food. After a few minutes, I let her out of the cat carrier (I lock her in it when she eats so the others don't bother her). She seemed fine. I started to fear she was going to do great on dry food and maybe I was wrong, but I just couldn't face it.

A moment later, Cara jumped off the bed and found a plate that had, literally, a pea-sized, if even that big, bit of raw food on it. A meager leftover part of a full dish that I had just given to her sister. She licked it up. Seemed fine. Then..all of a sudden...the straining, neck twisting and stretching started. The horrible gurgling sound..the vomit. All the dry food, the tiny dot of raw amid mucus and foam came out.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Was it the dry food that made her sick or the bit of raw? I offered more dry food to her, but she wouldn't eat it. That's my girl. Chester was playing with it. New toy, not nutrition!

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

An hour later I gave Cara chicken baby food. She ate it up, purred and laid in the sunshine. No vomiting. I have to trust my gut and my experience. I'm going to give Cara time. I'm not going to do anything else to her for the rest of the week, other than give her baby food, then after a few days, some canned grain-free mixed in and a bit of pro biotic to help her flora balanced...see if she keeps it down.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

For Cara, I will slay dragons, but right now I need a moment for myself. The hours and hours of watching her, cleaning up her vomit, measuring food, worrying, have taken a toll. I thought I was to a place where I could handle these ups and downs, but I think it's cumulative. Between my own cat battling cancer, the sickly kittens and Cara's tender tummy, I hit a wall. I'll get us through this somehow, but I'm not sure what scars will be left behind as a painful souvenir of these difficult days.

Cara sits in a cage at Dr. Larry's clinic. She's been there most of the week. She hates being confined and alone. She stands on her hind legs and desperately reaches between the metal bars at the Vet Techs that pass by. From time to time, they take her out of the cage and give her some attention, some loving, some time to de-stress, but most of the day she is curled up on her cat bed, waiting.

Cara hasn't gone a day without vomiting up her food, at least once or twice. What's causing her to vomit, we still don't know. Dr. Larry performed the Barium Study, where they get Cara to eat some barium mixed into her cat food. As she swallows, they set a timer and begin taking x-rays of her, every so often. The timer shows up on the x-ray so they can follow the progression of food as it passes into her stomach, then into her intestines.

They look for abnormalities. At “Hour 2,” they saw something, but it wasn't very revealing. In Cara's stomach, there's a slight, rounded area. It can be seen on an xray prior to the study being done. During the study, you can see Cara's intestines, lit up, bright white, but near the red arrow is the pouch with some barium, that eventually passes, but has been held up in the digestion process for a short period of time.

When I visit Cara, each afternoon, Dr. Larry or his associate, Dr. Andrew, talk to me about what they think is wrong. Cara is TINY for her 16 weeks of age. They are describing her as “Failing to Thrive.” This can be a death knell for cats. I know when I hear this, it scares me to no end, but if you spend time with Cara, watch her play, be interested in the world around her, see her pretty green eyes sparkle, surely this is not a cat who's about to die?

Then Dr. Larry tells me Cara's intestines feel a bit soft, not quite right. In xray, they see her liver. It's at an odd angle-not quite right. We've discussed parasites and she's been dewormed a few times with a few different protocols, yet there is one we haven't done, so we'll run some Albon through her just so we can take parasites off the list of what could be wrong.

I ask weird, stupid questions...desparate to think of something that was overlooked. Is one of her organs failing? Does she have hyperthyroid? What makes a cat vomit, but not vomit EVERY time she eats?

We looked at environmental factors. Her siblings crowd the food bowls and she has to fight her way in to eat. I made sure she was eating out of her own bowl, away from the other cats. She jumped off the bed and ran to her sister and started to eagerly grab at food. Of course that would have to make her vomit-eating so fast.

But she's alone. No competition for food. Now I'm not even allowed to visit any more because me leaving stresses her out, too. When I was at the Clinic last night, I could hear her crying. It broke my heart not to be able to go to her.

We spoke of next steps. Endoscopy, would require sedation, which is always something you want to avoid, especially with a young animal. It would possibly give us a view of her stomach that might answer some question. The other choice is an ultrasound, which might show thickening of the intestines or lining of the stomach. No sedation required, but it's expensive.

Then Dr. Larry said my least favorite thing; “You're already spending a small fortune on the barium study. Look at all these xrays.” There must have been 10 or 12 in the manilla envelope. I started doing calculations and guessed that even with my discount it will be about $750.00. I was too scared to ask. The ultrasound will be a few hundred more.

I have to find some balance, but we're not getting any answers. Probably because of the fear of the Vet bill, did I think again and say to Dr. Larry...what about ALL the antibiotics this cat has been on for MOST of her life. I bet that could be making her sick. Maybe she just needs time to recover and not be messed with any more?

Dr. Larry thought I made a valid point-but this is during the time when Cara is still on a heavy dose of antibiotics to slay the darn URI she has had for months. The URI is resolving, but what were the lasting effects of ALL these meds?

Dr. Larry just called. He feels we would find out helpful information if we go ahead and do the ultrasound. It would either tell us clearly that Cara, internally, is fine or that we have a problem. We've been trying to find out why she vomits for over a month and I had to decide if I could find the funds to pay another few hundred dollars for the bill. I asked for a rescue discount. Hopefully the Vet who does the ultrasound will be kind enough to do that for us. Even if he doesn't, I have to push, yet again for funding for Cara.

I really hate to ask for help, but Cara needs it now, more than ever. If you can help, your donation will go straight to our Boo-Boo and Sniffles Fund, which will pay Cara's vet bill.

I can't say, “no” to doing this test, so the ultrasound will be done in an hour. I can't just watch Cara continue to be sick and hope she grows out of it. She hasn't so far and if she continues down this road...well...she may have a very short road ahead of her.

So I didn't buy into (much) of the commercialism of Valentine's Day. I got Sam three cards that were silly. One was “from” the cats. He got me three cards, too, and that was it.

I saw something on the local news the week before about a place in Massachusetts where you could enjoy a nice day trip. I checked the map. It was only a two hour drive. Not bad.

They had a special dinner there over this past weekend, but Cara was sick so we had to miss it. I thought if we went on the actual day, Monday, we'd be around fewer people and have a quieter day. I didn't tell Sam about my plans. Oh God, it was another surprise! Haven't I learned from the past? Where is that Time Machine where the me of the future could have stopped the me of the present?! I figured it wasn't a big deal to take PART of a day off, then race back home in time to feed the cats.

To fully appreciate how desperate we are to get away from home. Last year, Sam and I went on ONE (business) trip to Ohio. We drove. It was 10+hours EACH way. If you subtracted the driving time and the business time, we had a vacation of about 12 hours.

The only other time either of us went anywhere was my trip for 36 hrs to visit my friends in PA and attend the Renaissance Festival.

THAT WAS IT. I did NOT go on a VACATION. I have not gone on a vacation for at least three years and even then it was a botched trip to the west, which ended in me spending $3,000.00 to get my car fixed and being broken down in Des Moines, IA for a week. Before that my last real vacation was...I can't remember. Probably a weekend away to Maine or Rhode Island.

Since finances are “that bad,” an overnight trip is not possible-also because of all the cats. We just can't go away.

I told Sam I had a plan for a partial day off. He liked the idea even if he didn't know where we were going. What trust! After I almost killed him so many years ago, he trusted me to plan something nice to do.

The problem was getting OUT of the house.

We were running late. I wanted to be on the road by 9am and it was already 10am. I wasn't angry. I decided to be mellow and just enjoy whatever happened. We put on our winter coats and hats. We loaded up our maps, a camera, Sam's beloved COFFEE. I was a few steps ahead of Sam, my hand about to touch the doorknob, which was connected to the front door, which was connected to FREEDOM, when I heard “OUCH!!!!!! SONOFABITCH!!!”

I dropped everything, turned around and saw Sam holding his foot. He had stepped on something and it had impaled him. He was not happy, to say the least, as he hopped on one foot over to the stairs to sit down. He was yelling about how whatever it was, went through TWO pairs of socks (I don't have the heat on very high, so Sam always bundles up).

I figured it was a tiny splinter, not a big deal. Sam took off one sock, then the other. I could see something in his foot. He tried to pick it out and cried in pain. I offered to get a tweezers and he nodded yes. I lumbered up the stairs around him, still wearing my winter coat, which made getting around very awkward.

I brought him the tweezers and also ended up kicking him in the back, since I was on the stair above him and to get around and down to hand him the tweezers, my foot hit his shoulder. He ignored the kick, took the tweezers and gave a pull. He cried out again and yelled at me to get the hemostat. The tweezers weren't strong enough!

Firstly, I know those are my best tweezers and they can pluck a rouge chin hair in style. Second, what is a hemostat? So I asked. Sam tersely replied; “you know, a “roach clip!”

I realized what he was talking about, as I ran back up the stairs. He had quite a few of those things in the bathroom. Then, as if i had woken a sleeping bear from hibernation, it dawned on me. After living together for so many years, how did I NOT realize what this was? Then I started to worry! Is my boyfriend a Pothead?

So I lumbered back down stairs and kicked Sam, again, in the back. (it was an accident, I swear!!).

I looked over his shoulder. He had a good grip on the splinter. I asked him if he wanted me to pull it out for him and he said, no. He took a deep breath and dramatically pulled hard. I thought he was overdoing it. Then I saw what came out of his foot. My stomach lurched and I nearly fainted!

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. The Splinter.

It was a HUGE sliver of wood. Later, Sam was able to determine that it was a piece of the oak FLOOR. Somehow his sock caught the piece, lifted it straight up, then when he put his foot down, WHAM!, right into his foot it went.

I made another trip up and down the stairs to get peroxide and some gauze and yes, another back kick! It was where he was sitting on the steps! Ugh.

I asked him if he could just come upstairs and sit on the bed and I'd bandage him up.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Sam holding the “hemostat”...ha ha ha...I mean splinter.

I am my Mother's daughter. After I got the bandage on, I had to take a photo. That piece of wood was enormous and it went well into Sam. Once the worst was over, I said to him; “Hey, we almost made it out the door. Do you want to just go to the movies today?”

He said he wanted to go on the trip. Even though he didn't know where we were going. I told him I was glad it happened to him because I would have been in a really bad mood and ruined the day if it happened to me. Sam had to agree, being a victim to my stormy mood swings. We both laughed and I told him we'd take it easy and could turn back early if needed.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. I have a new buddy on my sleeve.

We went to the Magic Wings Butterfly Conservatory. Which appeared to be an old Nursery that must have been converted into a place where butterflies fly around and creep you out because they fly in your face and there are signs everywhere saying not to touch them. Does that include not swatting them if they come after you?

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. A butterfly, right?

It was about 100 degrees in the place, too. Finally, Sam was warm. I knew he would enjoy thawing out, the poor guy. The place is small and not very fancy, but with so many butterflies, you really don't pay attention to that. There were a handful of people walking around, all with a camera in hand and not enough kids to ruin the mood by screaming or otherwise being kidlike.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Oh look! Another one!

As we walked the grounds, careful not to squash anything, we enjoyed the dazzling colors of the butterflies. A few landed on us from time to time. The misery of the earlier part of the day wore away. We finally had some peace. No cats. No worries. No splinters. It was really quite pleasant.

Sam needed to rest his foot, so he sat on a bench while I took a few photos now that my camera had stopped fogging up from them temperature change. I noticed a butterfly on the floor, near Sam's bench. It was very still. Upon closer inspection, I noticed it's wings were tattered. Then, I realized it was dead. I really didn't want to see a dead butterfly, but I know they don't live that long. I wished the butterfly well and said “rest in peace” to it. Being mindful that we're not supposed to touch the butterflies, I left it where it lay.

A moment later I was standing near a flowery shrub, about to take a photo. A large blue butterfly, seemed to drop into the bush right in front of me. I could swear I heard a thud. I took a photo of it, but as I put my camera down, I realized what I had just witnessed. This butterfly, too, had just died.

This is when I knew it was TIME TO GO. ENOUGH FUN FOR ONE DAY. I was sweaty and my stomach was grumbling. I knew I was going to swat at a butterfly if one more buzzed too close to my face. Sam's foot hurt.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Somehow there is just ONE butterfly in this panoramic photo, but there were clouds of them flying around in other areas.

We left without further incident, other than me catching a couple with a new baby start to have a fight over the husband not listening to the wife about how to use the camera (yes, the Valetine's Day glow was everywhere). We found a cute mom & pop place to have lunch. It was nothing fancy, but the food was very good. We were the only ones dining, so it was like our own private dining room. The sun was out and the temps went over 50°F for the first time in many weeks.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Another lovely butterfly.

Sadly, as soon as we got there, it seemed it was time to head back. We'd only really had a few hours away from home. With the traffic waiting for us, we needed to get going.

It wasn't a romantic day, but aside from the blood spilled and the dead butterflies, I guess it was a nice day. It gave us a tiny glimmer of life outside our little home, but made us long for more, a longer trip, a longer break. Something that does not include pain, misery or death!

When one of my friends heard about what happened, she asked me; “Can't you guys ever catch a break?”

The answer is simple: NO!

Last night we got Bob home from his #6 chemo treatment. We barely got in the door, when I saw it was already 7pm and time for the foster kittens to get their meds.

I have to get a photo of this for you...each cat has a paper plate with their name written on it so I can keep track of which cat is getting the meds. Then I take some yummy raw food and mix the Panacur into it. Each kitten has a different dose. Then I take some play dough like cat treat stuff and cover up their tiny Baytril, then hide that into the small mound of food. Last night everyone got a B12 shot, so I have the syringes on each plate. That was only SOME of what they got.

I put mama-Mazie into a cat carrier, then gave the plates to Chester and Polly. Sam watched them to make sure they ate it all. I took Cara into the bathroom so I could feed her separately. I gave her a tiny and I mean, TINY dot of food. She was clearly starving and attacked the spoon, gobbling the tiny morsal. Then I turned on my stopwatch app on my iPhone, watching a minute pass while Cara frantically ran around the room, looking for more food. I gave her another nibble.

It took about 6 minutes to go through 1/2 of the food, which was only about 1 teaspoon, total. I made sure she ate her baytril first. I waited, she started the familiar gurgling sound in her belly. Then she licked at her mouth, clearly she was going to regurgitate this food. She started to back herself up. Within a few moments, out came the food, along with a lot of mucus. Only because Cara MUST get these meds in her, did I use a paper towel to tease out the mucus and let her eat the remains back up. She must have been starving. She licked her lips, gurgled, but managed to keep the food down.

I waited a few more minutes and gave her a tiny bit of food. I thought she was going to lose it again, but she didn't. She sounded terrible, though. After about 10 more minutes I let her finish up and she was all right.

This morning, I got up late, so I blame myself, but Cara just coldn't keep her food down. I think I let her go too long between eating and she builds up so much mucus that it prevents her from getting her food into her stomach. Even with very watered down food, she pushed it back up. Over the course of an hour, she spewed six times, each one with mucus, then more and more foam. She must be so hungry. It just kills me to see this. It completely makes sense as to why she is just barely 3 pounds and her brother, Chester is 4 pounds 10 ounces.

I put in a call to Dr Larry. Am waiting to hear back from him. I wish there was some way to get the mucus out of this poor kitten. She has such a sweet face and acts like a baby squirrel. If you sit still, out of the blue, she'll suddenly jump onto your shoulder. I don't know how she manages that distance. It's not from the floor, but from your lap..come to think of it, I was sitting on the edge of the tub and she got to my shoulder last night!

I just hate seeing her like this. I hate seeing all of them so sick. Chester snorts like a pig and Polly sounds like a duck with a cold. Her eyes are watery and she fusses like crazy every time I try to give her meds. Sam got a huge scratch on his hand from Chester, just last night. If they only knew we were trying to help them.

Speaking of help...

Thank you very much to all the kind people who jumped in to donate towards the kittens ever growing Vet bill! You're all sweethearts! We got a donation from someone in Norway and someone in the UK! It's an amazing feeling to know that so many of you cared enough to share what you could to help get these babies back to health.

If you didn't get a chance to donate to their fund, I'll re-run the ChipIn widget here. If you already donated, then I Thank You and the kittens thank you, too!

I really hope I have good news about these babies, soon!

For the past three weeks, I've taken Polly, Chester and Cara to see Dr. Larry at least once, some times twice a week. The kittens are just NOT “getting over the hump.” They get mildly better for a day or two and seemingly overnight they get very sick. They also don't all have the same symptoms at the same time. I've learned not to freak out when I see Polly's eyes all watery again or Chester sneezing, but...what can be done for them?

Last week, Dr. Larry and I had a long talk. He was very concerned that the kittens have FIP. For those of you not familiar with Feline Infectious Peritonitis, let's just say that it's a death knell for any cat who gets it. It's highly contagious, as well, which means I could have put ALL MY CATS, even Bob Dole, at risk for getting this incurable disease.

I did NOT want to think this is a possibility. I pushed back, saying the kittens were chronically ill, BUT they were thriving, in some way, too. They did PLAY, they ate well, they WERE gaining weight. Yes, they were sick with some sort of horrible URI that wasn't responding to MONTHS of medications, but could it be FIP? Oh no..PLEASE NOT THAT. Please don't make me have to EUTHANIZE MY FOSTER KITTENS!!! I could NOT IMAGINE A WORSE CHOICE TO HAVE TO MAKE. NOT MY LITTLE ONES. NO surely, not them. Granted my life sucks right now, but having to face this would put me over the edge and into a dangerous place.

That's why I couldn't write about it. I was too sick.

So we ran tests, even though Polly fussed and screamed, being the sickest, we decided to do the tests on her. We ran a PCR, which might tell us if she has Calicivirus, Herpes, etc. We ran a full blood panel, a stool sample, bartonella screening, re-snap tested her for FIV+/Feline leukemia. The tests cost $600.00 and many took the better part of a week to get results on.

While I waited for test results to come back, I spent time with the kittens, and their mom, Mazie, too. The kittens slept on me for hours. I didn't mind spending that time not working. My head was killing me. Having a headache for two months is not really fun. I loaded up on painkillers and we all took a nap. The kittens have grown fond of me, in their way. Once in awhile, I get a purr, especially out of Polly. Her coat is now like silk, from the grain-free food. I love to pet her while she snoozes. She sounds like a stuffed up duck when she breathes.

Cara tugs at my heartstrings. At 16 weeks old, she is only barely 3 pounds. She has so much mucus in her, if she eats too fast, she regurgitates her food, then hysterically tries to eat it back up, only to pass it out again. I have to feed her very slowly and still she is anxious to gobble up whatever she can. She is so tiny, with such big owl-green-eyes, I can't help but want to do whatever I can to save her life.

The test results started to come in. Bartonella-negative, Bloodwork, ok, but showed she is anemic, just slightly. Stool sample showed positive for a type of coccidia I haven't heard of and I will have to report on exactly what this was later since it escapes me just now. The PCR was inconclusive-probably because Polly has had so many antibiotics. Dr. Larry feels they have a heck of a herpes virus infection...DUH! We knew that going in! Would he take FIP off the table now? He said, YES, maybe, but he also insisted we snap test Cara and Chester for FIV+/Feline Leukemia. So we did that. Negative/Negative. Thank GOD.

Dr. Larry called a vet he knows in Arizona who works with shelter cats. She said she's seen this before. She suggested we hit this and hit it hard and that would get rid of what ails these cats. The problem is, there goes another $400.00.

Here are the meds...I am deworming them with Panacur, it's gonna blow out whatever parasites they've got. They are getting shots of B12, Zithromax, Baytril, Terramycin for their eyes. Most of this will take two weeks of daily or twice daily application. If the kittens don't hate me now, they will soon. I'd rather they hate me than have FIP any day of the week.

The other problem, as usual, is funding. I've asked so much of everyone that I can't even bear to ask now, so I'll just post this ChipIn and if you can help the kittens, that would be very much appreciated. If you can't, no worries.

These kittens deserve a chance at a healthy, long life. If I can get them over this, then I can start the happier task of finally finding them good homes. For kittens who've been sick almost every day of their short lives, it really would be remarkable to see them healthy-at last.

And if this doesn't work...I'm just not sure where that path will take us next. I won't let them down. I just won't, no matter what.

Even if I find out their Mom has RINGWORM...yeah...surprise! She's got it.

Halp.