Moral Dilemma: How to Save A Kitten

I've rescued a number of animals of varying sizes, shapes and species over the years. One of my deepest, darkest secrets -- now to be revealed to the universe -- is that I save worms that are lying on the sidewalk. They usually end up there after a heavy rainfall. Or maybe they get lost. I don't know. I just can't stand to see them frying on the sidewalk. The Yoruba people consider the worm to be a mighty and holy creature -- they are awfully good at conditioning and aerating the soil. Most people here think they are kind of yucky. Anyway, since I was a kid, I've been picking them up and putting them in the grass. If I have time, I cover them up with a little dirt to give them a head-start. When I first bent down to pick one up, I thought it would be gross and slimy. Worms get a bad rap in the U.S. at least.

Worms actually aren't slimy. It feels like picking up a finger -- their skin feels rather like our skin. I know -- picking up a finger off the ground sounds even grosser -- I had to get past that sensation and focus more on the worm's needs, not my needs.

I saved a huge puppy, later named Angel, just before a massive snowstorm last winter and found a good home for it. I saved, at least temporarily, a chickadee in the Hyattsville Shoppers Food Warehouse parking lot after a friend noticed it was in danger of getting run over by a car. It was unclear what was wrong with it. Tt was just sort of flapping there and confused-looking. I scooped it up and placed it in the grass under a tree in a nearby median strip.

There were the cicadas to be flipped over in the early summer this year and various other beetles and crickets in general. That's easy to do, especially if you have the right shoes on.

It's not something I think hard about, usually. It just seems to be the natural response to a critter in trouble. The one philosophical influence on me might have been in high school during comparative religion class when we discussed the Jain in India and how they avoid stepping on insects on the ground as a spiritual practice to respect all sentient creatures. The monks actually use small brooms to sweep the ground in front of them as they walk for good measure. I don't go quite that far, but if I notice insects on the ground while I am walking, I do try to step over rather than on them, if I can help it.

So I am a bit troubled by my response to the kittens who have taken up residence in my backyard. My own live-in cat, Monte, was an impulsive rescue some 6 years ago from the front yard of a vacant, burned out crackhouse on my way to volunteer with kids living with HIV and AIDS. The cutest kitten ever in the history of kittens approached me and was very friendly. It was only until I saw her other side that it was clear that she needed immediate medical care right away. At the house, the staff couldn't let me bring the kitten inside because, from the smell emanating from her massive filthy open oozing wound, it was clear that infection had set in. The kids might have wanted to pet her but given their immuno-suppressed and compromised states, that was not a good idea. But they got me a box and to make a long story short, I got her to the vet where they gave me all this free stuff to help take care of her. One of the nurses got all teary-eyed when I told them the story.

But her operation wasn't free -- almost $300. And her wound was too big for stitches so here I was the proud new caretaker of a tiny weeks-old kitten with a giant open, but much cleaner, wound on her right side. It literally covered about 25% of her body. Fortunately, it healed completely and skin and fur grew over the torn muscle and ligament quickly as she grew.

So now, Monte and I live in a house with a small fenced-in backyard. Occasionally, Monte's had some boyfriends as I let her out in the backyard. They come, they go. I don't get attached to them. They are independent guys, who from the looks of them, seem to be getting enough to eat and clearly enjoy their lives as is.

However, one day, Monte's last boyfriend scurried away as he usually did but with a fat little orange fuzzball with short legs trailing behind him. Over the past couple of months, I've stopped seeing Monte's boyfriend but I've seen much more of the fat orange fuzzball. S/He has often been seen playing in the alley near my house but was often enough in my backyard which is much more popular with local strays since I had it landscaped in the spring. Cats are lovers of beauty and comfort, after all.

I remember the fuzzball's little eyes glinting at me as I parked one night.

I left a little food out for it once or twice. It was pretty fat as was its new little black, grey and white-mottled friend so I wasn't too worried about them. Also, the strays tended to come and go, so I wasn't planning on getting attached.

That was before I saw the orange fuzzball again this weekend. I'd mostly seen it from the side or behind before. This time, it was quite close to me as I got out of my car. It ran along the fence and then looked straight at me. Someone had ripped its eyes clean out of their sockets. The wounds looked as healed as they are likely to get -- not fresh and juicy at all. Still I was troubled by this and by signs that the kitten had lost some weight. I left some food out for it right away and watched it successfully body-block and fight its buddy for primary access. Scrappy little guy. So I created another pile for the sidekick kitten.

So here's my dilemma -- try and catch the blind kitten and get it some medical attention? Adopt it or both kittens and triple my current collection of scratched furniture, hair everywhere and feeding/scooping/petting duties? I'd hate to catch Blindie and leave Sidekick on its own. They don't really come near me and seem quite feral at their young age.

Right now, I've settled for feeding them kitten chow -- I leave two plates out each evening since they are nocturnal. All the food is gone in the morning. I also leave out fresh water -- who knows where they are drinking otherwise. But will that make them dependent on me instead of learning to hunt and forage? What if I move? Who will take care of them? What if those eye sockets get infected? How much is enough? Where are they doing their kitty business and should I be concerned about what's under my deck stairs? Does the backyard provide enough safety as a home base for their scampering little adventures? Or should I leave them to their fate?

Should I give them names? Blindie and Sidekick seem like cruel names -- I tend to think of them as Tubby and Pal. Is it still safe to let Monte out in the yard or is one of those kittens already infected with kitty AIDS or some other disease?

What kind of person cleanly tears out the eyes of a small baby animal and then throws it back into the street -- I am also concerned about which of my neighbors is psychotic and guilty of the crime? What else is this neighbor capable of?

My behavior towards animals is not pure by any means. I've killed certain insects in my own house to prevent them from making babies and moving in and just to keep the house clean. I am relieved when Monte finds a big one and eats it for me so I don't have to deal with it. However, I think I know how to prevent the springtime ants from returning next springtime so I don't have to engage in tiny ant massacre. And I have a sonic pest repellent in the kitchen that keeps bugs out for the most part using sounds that bugs hate that are undetectable to human ears. I'm trying -- but what's appropriate and sensible? Where does one draw the line when wanting to help others or at least not see them hurt?

Questions -- I don't have good answers to them yet. Right now, I am just leaving food and water out and hoping for the answers to come.

Comments

[Marie]

I save worms also - I love to see them wiggle happily away after you get them out of the hot sun :) Go worm savers!

[Mew]

You rocks, seriously. I love kind people like you that this world so lacks now. :)

[belledame222]

oh my god!! oh KITTEN -cries-

and yeah, what Mew said.

oh oh though