ladysprite | So This Is What Wrath Feels Like

As some of you may remember, I have a brain-damaged kitten. Said kitten was also doing remarkably well, all things considered. She was weaned onto solid food, she was growing and playing and learning how to irritate the heck out of my senior cat, she was overcoming most of her developmental obstacles, with one exception - she wouldn't learn how to use the litterbox.

I tried everything I could think of, and ultimately called another veterinarian who specialized in treating behavioral disorders. And the one thing we thought of that we hadn't tried was putting her to socialize with another litter of kittens - maybe seeing other age-mates use the box might get her to learn by following. And it turned out that one of the techs I work with at one particular clinic is a volunteer kitten raiser for a local rescue group, and had a litter of babies. And she agreed to take my kitten for a little while, to see if this idea would work.

And so began Moxie's trip to boarding school. That was about a week and a half ago. We called to check on her a few days in, and were told that she was doing well - playful, eating, not quite sure what to do with the other kittens, but overall fine. And then... nothing. We tried to call the tech a couple of times, but got no answer.

Today I was working at said clinic. I started to worry when the office manager greeted me with condolences on the poor, sad, sickly baby I had taken on, and then proceeded to tell me how upsetting it was that the kitten couldn't track with her eyes, wouldn't look at anyone, and just lay there all the time while she was in the hospital, and how they had all been concerned that she was blind. I explained, a bit shocked, that she had not been anything like that when I left her, and she responded with a careful facial expression that made it clear she thought I was deeply in denial.

(And for the record, I am ripshit mad that, when the kitten at the clinic did not match my description, health-wise, NO ONE there thought to call and tell me - apparently the opinion of the entire staff was that I must have just been exaggerating about how good she was, and was in denial about her state.)

I called the foster mom, and didn't get an answer, but an hour or so later she ran in, dropped off the kitten, and ran out again. And I nearly burst into tears.

My poor baby. When I dropped her off, she weighed almost 2 pounds. She's now down to 1lb 3oz. She is too weak to walk, and can barely stand for a minute or two, before shaking and falling. She's lethargic, minimally responsive, and, unless prodded, just lies on her side in the corner.

She's filthy - her fur is stained yellow and clumped, and her skin is red and raw. The tech assured me that she was bathing her every day, but... evidence goes against that claim.

When I suggested to the rest of the staff that I was concerned about malnutrition, they refused to believe me, and kept insisting that she had a degenerative neurological disease. I mentioned that it was awfully coincidental that the degeneration didn't start until I had let her out of my sight. But... I was willing to give the foster house the benefit of the doubt.

That was until I went to put her back in her carrier to take her home. The same carrier that the tech had brought her in that morning. And I found the bowl of food in there. Specifically, the bowl of rotten dried-up food, with two different kinds of mold growing on it.

I have no more words.

My kitten nearly starved to death. I can't, at this point, guarantee she's going to make it. I've been feeding her every couple of hours, and I've got her back on the bottle just to try to rehydrate her and get some extra bonus nutrition in, but she's pretty far gone. And even if we do get her re-nourished... she's still developing, and God only knows what this episode of malnutrition did to her already-inferior brain.

I'm willing to cut the foster mom a LITTLE slack - Moxie *is* a special-needs baby, and you can't just throw a bowl of food in with her and expect her to eat whenever she feels like it, like a normal kitten - she needs to be placed near the food, and watched to make sure she eats. Maybe we didn't make that clear enough to her. But still. She should have noticed. She should have recognized that she wasn't eating. Hell, she should have recognized that she wasn't MOVING. She should have recognized that she was losing weight, and going downhill. Someone should have called me.

I should never have let her out of my sight. She's nearly dead, and it's partly my fault. And even if she makes it, she spent a week suffering and starving, and I can't get that out of my head.

Please, if anyone has any positive energy to spare, I'd appreciate if you sent it towards a particular troubled, sickly, brain-damaged Persian kitten right now....