We returned home around 4-4:30 pm which was feeding time for all the cats outside. As I walked alongside the garage on my way to the back of the house, I heard what I thought was a faint mewing of a kitten. By then the rain had gotten heavier and traffic was noisier so I dismissed what I thought I heard. I have been known to imagine things far worse.
I fed the cats and came back inside. But I was unsettled. Did I imagine that mewing or was it real? Finally I mentioned something to my husband and he suggested we go out and investigate. It couldn't hurt.
At that time we had a truck bedliner upside down on our car trailer. When my husband lifted it up, sure enough, there was a tiny orange kitten that started screaming his head off. He was hungry as hell and he wanted his mommy.
What he didn't know was his mommy (Mini-Me) had been hit and killed by a car in the front of our house. We found her when we came home before we even pulled into the driveway. That was pretty tough for me to take. It still is. But somehow we move on, don't we?
Our next step was to bring the little one inside, make him warm, and get some kitten milk inside his tummy. I knew he was 5 weeks old as he was born August 9th along with four siblings. He had been the only survivor, as the others weren't strong enough to make it. I actually thought they all had died.
His new home was a cardboard box with a screen on top, and that was kept in the bedroom at night so if there were any problems with him I would be right there to deal with them. Every morning I would wake up and lie in bed listening for him to make a noise because, to be honest with you, I worried myself sick that one morning I would walk over to that box and find he didn't make it either.
He never made a noise, no mewing, nothing. I guess he screamed enough the day we found him and lost his ability to meow. Poor little fellow.
His first visit to the vet was within a week after bringing him inside. A few days later we were informed the fecal sample we took revealed that he had giardia, a parasite, and it was wreaking havoc on his tiny body. After many weeks of turmoil and worriment he finally turned a corner and got healthy but not until that parasite was banished from him.
So, may I present Punkin' ~
My husband named him Pumpkin due to his orange coloration but when he started showing his personality, I altered his name to Punkin', Punk for short. And he is sometimes called Prince Punk.
Today he's a happy, lively cat. He only weighed 11.5 ounces at 5-1/2 weeks of age and was always underweight and although he is still tiny for his age, he has grown into a beautiful young cat. He still doesn't meow but sometimes when I pick him up and he doesn't want to be held he gets a little testy and makes a squealing noise, almost like a puppy bark. I am hoping that eventually he will start talking. Until then, he's here, he's healthy, and he's very much loved.
As I sit here and look at this picture of him, I think back to his early days and what he went through, both outside and with us. And I can only thank God for letting us get to know this beautiful cat.
3 comments:
What a sweet story and a sweet cat!
Has it really been a year? But then He is about the same age as my Shadow who had a similar beginning.
He is beautiful.
Aww, you're good people. What a sweet cat.
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