Chance In Memoriam

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 second in line to a cat foster mum when it comes to the kitten’s chances. But it’s not always easy. The timing seemed perfect and I arranged for Xak to meet me, with the wee one, at Carla’s. And we’d see if our mum would take to little Chance.

I don’t want to make a long story out of this one. Mitra wasn’t keen on little Chance. Carla and Xak handfed her while they continued to try and get Mitra interested. But the wee one wasn’t thriving and I picked her up to run her to Jenni’s, our local handfeeding expert and surgical nurse. Chance died on the journey.

With hindsight there’s things we could have done differently. But the wee one had a rotten beginning – somehow separated from mum, picked up by a dog, rejected by another mum, and car journeys all over the place. Maybe she didn’t stand a chance. But maybe we could have given her more of one if we’d played things a different way. We’ll never know.

All we can do is remember her, and others like her, and wish her an easy journey out to the Rainbow Bridge.

The Kitten That Nobody Loved

by Michael Michalak

He sat beside the factory door,
And I thought that I would cry;
It seemed the world and maybe more,
Had looked and passed him by.

So small and weak, and oh so thin,
Just bones in tabby fur;
But when I stroked him, he’d begin
To roll and softly purr.

His eyes were green as leaves in Spring,
His heart so big and bold,
Oh how I loved that little thing
That shivered in the cold.

I turned and slowly walked away
As the rain began to fall,
But through the bleak November grey
I heard his plaintive call.

I gathered up his tiny form
And clutched him to my heart,
I held him there so soft and warm
And vowed we’d never part.

His little life soon ebbed away,
And on my lap he died,
A tiny ball of black and grey;
My tears I could not hide.

Now by the cherry tree he lies,
Safe from the rain and storm,
Oh pray the hand that closed his eyes
Will keep him safe and warm.

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Posted in In Loving Memory, In Memoriam, Poems & Quotes.

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