Joined
·
1,842 Posts
CRISPY CRITTER
by Lynne Massie
From Kittycatlover
It was a warm July day when my daughter and I saw a cloud of
black smoke near our local hardware store.
We quickly drove over to watch news being made as the store
was
overtaken by fire. No sooner did we arrive then a puff of smoke
came
running out of the building into the hands of a paramedic.
Realizing it was a kitten, I followed them to the ambulance
where it was dunked into a bucket of saline.
"If it doesn't belong to anyone, I'll take it."
Relieved, the paramedic handed me a black, wet, glob of burned
mess. The only thing recognizable was a pair of eyes pleading for
relief. It couldn't even mew.
We dashed to the nearest vet, praying the kitten would live
until we arrived.
"Please hold on," we pleaded.
The black eyes stared at me without a sound. The vet took one
look and said, "This cat is so badly burned his lungs are probably
seared and his skin will turn to leather and fall off. You need to
put him to sleep."
"What? You haven't even tried to save him. I'm a cancer
survivor who has proven you can beat the odds. I can't just put him
to sleep. This cat may die, but it won't be for lack of trying.
Thank you for your time."
We dashed to another vet who gave the same line. On to a
third,
who said what we wanted to hear.
"I think this kitten may have a chance."
We then broke the news that we could not afford much in the
way
of treatment, especially for a stray. Fortunately, by then, she was
attached to the little thing and agreed to free treatment if we
would
pay for the medications.
"If he is still alive tomorrow and his lungs have not filled
with fluid, we will give it a go," she said.
"That's a deal!"
"What's his name?" she asked.
"His name? Hmmm. I think we'll call him Crispy Critter."
Thus began a 24-hour ordeal of treatments and sleeping with
him
on the couch -- cuddling, petting, nurturing, and treating his
severe
burns. He made it through the first 24 hours and over the next
several days much of his skin died. Pieces began to fall off --
first the tops of his ears, then a toe, then half his tail, then
another portion of his foot.
It was gruesome and we began to wonder if we had made a
mistake.
But, as we sat cuddling him looking into those black eyes, we knew
we
had to keep trying. Soon we were rewarded with some quiet meows.
Over the next four months, while we continued to peel away
dead
skin and treat the burns. Smoke inhalation left him with an
asthma-like wheeze and an intestinal tract that had little
peristaltic movement -- meaning he could not move his bowels.
Discouraged, we finally had to admit that giving enemas to a cat
everyday was not something we could continue. So with a heavy
heart,
we took him to the vets ready to give up.
As we walked in, a relief vet happened to be passing through
town. When he saw the scraggly-looking Crispy, he exclaimed, "What
happened to that cat?"
After telling him the story, he said, "I read of a new surgery
that might solve the intestinal problem. I was hoping to have an
opportunity to try it and will do it for free. But you need to know
he may not survive".
With tears running down our checks, we kissed and cuddled
Crispy, as we said our goodbye.
The next day we got the call from the vet.
"Crispy is alive! He is ready to go home. What a courageous
cat he is. Only time will tell if he has turned the corner."
With both elation and tears, we rushed to the vets to bring
him home.
That was three years ago. Today, Crispy, the Courageous
Kitten,
struts around on his toe-less feet with his half tail held high.
His
face is scarred, he has only half of his ears and he OWNS the house.
He rules over three big dogs, three other cats, and one bird.
Not a day goes by that I don't look at him and remember that
no
matter how difficult the challenge appears, we should never give up
without a fight.
When we dedicate our whole self to a goal, miracles really do
occur.
by Lynne Massie
From Kittycatlover
It was a warm July day when my daughter and I saw a cloud of
black smoke near our local hardware store.
We quickly drove over to watch news being made as the store
was
overtaken by fire. No sooner did we arrive then a puff of smoke
came
running out of the building into the hands of a paramedic.
Realizing it was a kitten, I followed them to the ambulance
where it was dunked into a bucket of saline.
"If it doesn't belong to anyone, I'll take it."
Relieved, the paramedic handed me a black, wet, glob of burned
mess. The only thing recognizable was a pair of eyes pleading for
relief. It couldn't even mew.
We dashed to the nearest vet, praying the kitten would live
until we arrived.
"Please hold on," we pleaded.
The black eyes stared at me without a sound. The vet took one
look and said, "This cat is so badly burned his lungs are probably
seared and his skin will turn to leather and fall off. You need to
put him to sleep."
"What? You haven't even tried to save him. I'm a cancer
survivor who has proven you can beat the odds. I can't just put him
to sleep. This cat may die, but it won't be for lack of trying.
Thank you for your time."
We dashed to another vet who gave the same line. On to a
third,
who said what we wanted to hear.
"I think this kitten may have a chance."
We then broke the news that we could not afford much in the
way
of treatment, especially for a stray. Fortunately, by then, she was
attached to the little thing and agreed to free treatment if we
would
pay for the medications.
"If he is still alive tomorrow and his lungs have not filled
with fluid, we will give it a go," she said.
"That's a deal!"
"What's his name?" she asked.
"His name? Hmmm. I think we'll call him Crispy Critter."
Thus began a 24-hour ordeal of treatments and sleeping with
him
on the couch -- cuddling, petting, nurturing, and treating his
severe
burns. He made it through the first 24 hours and over the next
several days much of his skin died. Pieces began to fall off --
first the tops of his ears, then a toe, then half his tail, then
another portion of his foot.
It was gruesome and we began to wonder if we had made a
mistake.
But, as we sat cuddling him looking into those black eyes, we knew
we
had to keep trying. Soon we were rewarded with some quiet meows.
Over the next four months, while we continued to peel away
dead
skin and treat the burns. Smoke inhalation left him with an
asthma-like wheeze and an intestinal tract that had little
peristaltic movement -- meaning he could not move his bowels.
Discouraged, we finally had to admit that giving enemas to a cat
everyday was not something we could continue. So with a heavy
heart,
we took him to the vets ready to give up.
As we walked in, a relief vet happened to be passing through
town. When he saw the scraggly-looking Crispy, he exclaimed, "What
happened to that cat?"
After telling him the story, he said, "I read of a new surgery
that might solve the intestinal problem. I was hoping to have an
opportunity to try it and will do it for free. But you need to know
he may not survive".
With tears running down our checks, we kissed and cuddled
Crispy, as we said our goodbye.
The next day we got the call from the vet.
"Crispy is alive! He is ready to go home. What a courageous
cat he is. Only time will tell if he has turned the corner."
With both elation and tears, we rushed to the vets to bring
him home.
That was three years ago. Today, Crispy, the Courageous
Kitten,
struts around on his toe-less feet with his half tail held high.
His
face is scarred, he has only half of his ears and he OWNS the house.
He rules over three big dogs, three other cats, and one bird.
Not a day goes by that I don't look at him and remember that
no
matter how difficult the challenge appears, we should never give up
without a fight.
When we dedicate our whole self to a goal, miracles really do
occur.
