…continued from part 1

Part 2
Between my health issues and being on disability, the last thing I needed or could afford was a vet bill…but off to kitty emergency we went. After running a few tests, they decided to treat her for “kitty vertigo.” This was the first time I had to disclose her name…publicly, and yeah, I got ‘the look.’

Don’t judge…there’s a story behind it.

Filthy’s doctor said if she showed no signs of improvement within a few days she would have to return. “It could be something very serious, possibly an issue with her brain.” My heart sank but I remained optimistic. As I wrote out the check…that would drain my account, I wondered how long the boys and I would be able to survive without food. I was kinda wishing I would have saved that Chow Mein Noodle. They gave me drops and a bottle of pills for her and we were on our way. As I walked out the door, I was reminded the drops must be refrigerated.

Her next dose was due six hours later. The pill went down without incident. The drops? Not so much. As I put the drops in each ear, she turned into Ninja Kitty, biting, scratching and shaking her head. I don’t think any of it actually made it to it’s destination. We went through the same routine the following morning and again six hours later. I couldn’t really tell if she was improving or not, she spent most of the time sleeping and I kept her litter box and food (yes, at least the animals were still eating!) close by her so she really didn’t have to walk much. I was getting concerned about the drops though, as they seemed to end up everywhere but in her ears. I couldn’t blame her for going “Ninja Kitty,” who would want ice cold liquid forced into their ear canal? Apparently not Filthy… I decided to call a pharmacy, explain the situation and see if there was any way the drops could be kept and room temp. Obviously there has to be a solution, this can’t be the first “Ninja Kitty” story they’ve encountered. As I dial the phone, I pull the bottle out; Administer Orally every six hours. Orally…Orally…Orally…

Don’t judge…there’s a story behind it.

Hold me. Did Filthy McNasty have a better chance of survival in the wild than she did with me? I called a friend in tears,
“I…I…have been putting the drops…”
“…in her ears…”
“…the bottle says…”
“Uh huh?”
“orally, it says orally!”
You could have heard a pin drop.
Then, in a well you’re not so bright tone of voice, asks,
“You called the vet, right?”
Like I really needed PETA showing up at my door during my emotional breakdown. The story did have a happy ending, Filthy fully recovered from “kitty vertigo” and me. I learned a valuable lesson, never to assume I know what I’m doing (almost never.) Little did we know, this was just a minor bump in the long road ahead.

Rex and his ‘adopted’ sister became great little playmates. He slowly taught her all the kitty basics, e.g. playing, grooming herself, taking over the household. I was still dealing with health issues and spent much of my time sleeping. With the kids in school all day, I’m glad they had each others companionship. I came home one day and found Filthy to be somewhat lethargic. She had vomited a few times so I called the vet. They said it sounded like she may have a touch of the flu and to just keep an eye on her for a few days. Without going into great detail, by the next morning it was clear our little princess was very sick! The vet wanted me to bring her in for testing. After learning what the tests would entail, and the cost…my heart sank. Still on disability, finances were still an issue. I consulted with a few other vets via phone, they all told me the same thing. Filthy was symptomatic of Feline Leukemia, which could also be passed on to Rex. I had a big decision to make. I was home alone and I was hysterical. I called my vet back for reassurance, advice, for anything! With her symptoms, not knowing her history and my financial situation, there was no reassurance and the only advice they could give me was to be mindful of my other cat, of Rex. This was all happening so fast.

Filthy had made her way into a bathroom cupboard and was curled up behind a stack of towels, As I approached her, she looked at me with her big gold eyes in the most apologetic way. As Rex and I sat with her, I made a phone call that, to this day literally rips my heart into a million little pieces.

The following is a letter I later wrote to the head of SPCA in my state;

When you think of the Humane Society, you think of an organization dedicated to helping animals. Whether it be finding a home for an abandon animal or helping to reunite a lost pet with it’s owner, this is who we trust to help our animals. If you cannot trust them whom can you trust? After this past week’s experience, I now question their humanity.

…continue part 3