“I ask for the privilege of not being born … not to be born until you can assure me of a home and a master to protect me, and a right to live as long as I am physically able to enjoy life … not to be born until my body is precious and men have ceased to exploit it because it is cheap and plentiful.” – Author Unknown
It’s estimated that 180,000 kittens die in Ireland each year. That’s just individual babies, and doesn’t include adult cats. It might just be a number to you. Not to us. We knew and cared for some of them.
Over the years we’ve had a number of cats and kittens die in our care. Some fight valiantly for life, others simply fade away. These pages, and their accompanying image galleries, are dedicated to them, and to all the animals whose lives have been abused and destroyed by people. People whose ancestors domesticated them so long ago.
We hope that, through our TNR programme and through rescuing and caring for lost and mistreated felines, we can save the lives of as many as we can. But sometimes we’re too late and there’s nothing we can do.
With Jenni joining me in 2005 and the subsequent rise in our intake of foster kittens, from a maximum of around four or five to a full house of twenty three (at several points), the number of deaths have increased as well. In addition, more kittens are coming to us in more extreme states of malnourishment and ill health. We can only do our best. I wish we could do more.
All we can do is remember them, tell their stories and hope to whatever gods are out there, if any, that humanity can learn to be humane; can learn to care for and respect all the living things we share this amazing miracle of a planet with.
Please be aware some people may find some of the images of ill and/or neglected animals disturbing.
I’ve been looking thru my photos and thinking it’s about time I introduced you to our latest long-term resident, Oakheart. He’s not looking for a home – he’s staying. Oakheart turned up last summer in my garden. I totally confused him with another feral I was trying to trap wih similar markings – I didn’t […] Continue reading
Remember the fabulous initiative Remember Me Thursday? Started by the Helen Woodward Animal Centre in America, it’s an adoption drive with a difference – and with international relevance. Your participation is key to promoting companion animal adoption from shelters and rescues – and saving lives! What does it involve? – lighting a candle on Remember Me Thursday, September 24, […] Continue reading
Granny Weatherwax was euthanased peacefully at home on Wednesday 21st January 2015. She was the gentlest auld girl, with the most affectionate headbonk ever. She is much loved and much missed. Sleep soft, dear friend. Continue reading
Have you heard about the fabulous initiative Remember Me Thursday? Started by the Helen Woodward Animal Centre in America, it’s an adoption drive with a difference – and with international relevance. Your participation is key to promoting companion animal adoption from shelters and rescues – and saving lives! What does it involve? – lighting a candle on Remember […] Continue reading
When I posted Scrabble’s memorial again recently, a year after her death, Shannon Johnson got in touch to say she’d a wee feral, if not exactly the spit of Scrabble, at least very like her – could she name this wee one Scrabble? Of course I said yes – with a tear in my eye, […] Continue reading
I said goodbye to Inky today. She’d had various health problems recently, mostly related to her age, and so her last visit to the vet was not entirely unexpected. And yet I had not thought it would be today. She was a most affectionate and happy cat and will be sorely missed. You may remember […] Continue reading
A combination of illness among my permanent residents, followed by illness in my technologies, has meant that I’ve posted very little over the past three months. Which is not to say I’ve had nothing to post! Now that everything has calmed down a bit I’m hoping to catch up with myself and just thought I’d […] Continue reading
My lil Scrabble was diagnosed with FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitus) in mid June this year. She had the wet form, which is terminal. She was given meds to maintain her quality of life, but went downhill on Friday. She was euthanised this Saturday morning. Just over two years old, her life was way too short […] Continue reading
I’ve recently been reminded of lil Bandit, the first kitten to die in my care. She contracted the wet form of FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis), a terminal condition (not infectious, despite it’s name) that some cats are genetically predisposed to. I couldn’t believe, but had to accept, there was nothing we could do for her. To […] Continue reading
*** RIP *** Owners located and decided to put Sam down as his broken spine injury would be expensive to treat. Found by the Red Cross as they drove by, young male black lab cross, most likely runover just by Coomhola school. He’s neutered, has a collar but no tag or microchip. It looks like […] Continue reading
When I was about to drive to Carla’s with the Hole in the Wall Gang, Xak called me. She’d a wee one day old kitten, who’d been brought to friends of hers by their dog. No sign of a mum. The best thing for neonatal kittens is another mum – handfeeding is great, but it’s […] Continue reading
WARNING! Disturbing Image. Yesterday afternoon several people told me of a wee, dead, runover dog up by the Maritime, just at Bantry House’s back gates. When I went over to check I found the wee thing, looking like he’d been perfectly healthy before his encounter with a car, lying on the pavement. A green collar […] Continue reading
When you say to an animal shelter or humane society employee “I could never do your job, it would break my heart. I love animals too much” or words to that effect, it sounds like you are saying: 1) That we don’t also love the animals, even though we’ve taken minimum wage (or no wage) […] Continue reading
Copyright Jim Willis 2001 When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was “bad,” you’d shake your finger at me and ask “How could […] Continue reading