I entered a little contest on Facebook: I Rescued My Pet... posted a picture of Manhattan after her first surgery. The contest sponsors, Whiskers and Leo, emailed me and requested a more recent picture of her which I happily sent along. 30 Minutes later I received notification that we won the contest. This means $25 off my next pet sitting service (convenient, as I have a business trip in the near future), and a $25 gift certificate from PetSmart. Additionally, Manhattan is featured on their Facebook page and will be on their home page.
Silly as this Facebook contest sounds, it made my day brighter. Because I remember the internal struggle I had while she was a street kitty: wanting so much to save her and integrate her with Coco and Valentina, yet afraid of having 3 cats and what that would do to my budget and my reputation (you know, "Crazy Cat Lady"). When she went missing from our normal feeding routine, N and I knew right away that something was wrong. We gained access to the underbelly of my building--once an A&P Warehouse--and found her. Starving and injured. Talking to us--trying to tell us the story of her battle within the feral colony. We would not know the full extent of her wounds until we got her to the second animal hospital and they discovered a bite that articulated from one side of her to the other: some critter [a possum? a rat?] had nearly bitten her in half.
She went into surgery the next day, and when the vet called to tell me she was out and recovering, and her prognosis was very good, I cried. This little 7 month old kitten had suffered because I wavered on a decision--and I was so relieved that I was able to save her from the clutches of death. Both the emergency vet and the regular vet who performed the surgery told me she was within days of dying. And both of them thanked me for helping her.
Today, if you had not read this story, you wouldn't know to look at her that she had been through such trauma. She plays and eats like a champ, and she snuggles with me whatever chance she gets. Each nite as I get ready for slumber land, she puts herself in her little kitty bed so that I can say goodnight to her before lights out. I learned so much from watching her fortitude during her recovery process, and through gaining her trust.
Thank you Manhattan for letting me rescue you: I know you were scared when we caught you, I know going to the vet and letting humans touch you for the first time was a horrifying experience. And I know being at the vet hospital and enduring two surgeries (life saving, then spay) was not an easy transition. But you made it and then came to live with your new sisters Coco and Valentina, and you've added a dimension to our life here that we didn't expect or know was possible.
Snoopy paws, The Mad Hatter, Little M...whatever name I call you by, I'm so happy I have you as part of my family. I love you, little girl!