I spend so much time dealing with my own health issues that I often feel obsessed. When I talk about my health with others I internally ask myself, “am I talking too much about my problems?”. It just seems all-consuming.
Type 1, retinopathy, heart disease, gastroparesis, PCOS, peripheral neuropathy….
It seems like I’m never not dealing with some health issue in one way or another.
A few days ago I came across a couple of friends who found an orphaned kitten in the street. The poor little thing was only three weeks old and in dire need of care. It’s momma and litter-mates were nowhere to be found, so my friends took her home and cared for her for a day or so. But they couldn’t keep her for various reasons. They called several shelters but none were willing to take in a nursing kitten. They are just too much work and need too much care and attention that the shelters didn’t have the manpower for. One shelter even said they would just euthanize the kitten!
I thought on it for a bit. I’m home all the time, I have the knowledge and time to care for a nursing kitten. I offered to take her.
So, I have been caring for this little thing now for a few short days. She is so dependent on me for everything. I bottle feed her every three hours or so, I have to stimulate her to potty because she doesn’t have the ability yet to potty on her own; she needs to be kept warm because she’s so tiny she can’t keep herself warm. She’s close to the age of starting to eat and potty on her own, but I think she’s a bit behind in development because of being orphaned.
My two older cats didn’t want anything to do with the new baby at first. This broke my heart a bit because I was hoping they would help to teach her how to be a cat. One of my cats is starting to warm up to the new one now so my hopes are renewed.
In just a couple of days the kitten has thrived. she’s growing, gaining weight, becoming more active and curious. She’s a little cuddle monster and purr box. She has a very loud and demanding cry, full of attitude; and she is a voracious eater.
My husband demanded that we not give her a name since we can not keep her. The plan is to care for her until she is old enough to eat and potty on her own and then adopt her out to a forever home. I can’t not name a pet, even if they are only a foster pet, so I named her Sancha, but I also call her Llorona sometimes, because she cries so loud.
I have found that since I have someone who is so dependent on me now, someone who needs so much from me, attention, time, care, love, I have been thinking less on my own problems. My attention is elsewhere, my worries are on the health of someone else, someone who needs more than I do.
It feels good.