Oh Boy, Oh Boy, Oh Boy!: Beatrix

The righteous care for the needs of their animals,
but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel.

- Proverbs 12:10

I don't know why I stopped.

And still today, I can only think that maybe, it was simply because I was meant to.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

One week ago, it was a beautiful Friday afternoon. Graham was napping, Bridger was mowing with Jared, and Holden and I were on our way to the grocery store to grab a few things.

As we headed down one of the country roads near our house, I spotted something.

I slowed down.

And wobbling along the side of the road, was a very small, cream-colored kitten.

Alone.

My heart began to race, and I turned the car around.

There were houses nearby - down long lanes - and I didn't have a plan. Maybe it belonged to someone? I didn't know.

I just could not physically make myself drive on without at least trying. Checking.

It was on the road. It would have been hit.

So I stopped the car - much to Holden's surprise ("Mommy! You're not allowed to do this!! You can't just stop on the road! You can't open your door here!") - put on my flashers, and got out.

I have seen feral cats before. Tried to rescue a few at our old apartment years ago. I know how they react to humans. And I know now that they are not something that needs/wants/requires my limited abilities.

I did not know what this kitten was.

So I slowly, cautiously, took a step towards it and simply said, "Kitty?"

It immediately turned and began blindly ambling toward my voice, crying.

And I did, too.

I was not prepared for that sight.

It's eyes were completely swollen and shut, sick. It's nose was unrecognizable. Destroyed by something. And whatever was going on with it's back end upset my stomach.

And it was crying out for help.

Head spinning, shaking, and scared, I made Holden take off his sweatshirt, gently scooped it up, and drove in tears back home.

I called my mom. I begged Jared to call our vet. I am not a "care giving" kind of person. I am not very gentle or patient. I am a tough-love, "walk it off" kind of person. There is no inner-nurse in any part of me.

I just wanted to take it somewhere where someone else could help it.

But that late on a Friday.. there was no one.

And it was grim.

I am ashamed to admit, that I even told Jared (who does not like cats and does not deserve to have to foot the bill for ANY of this) that if he really wanted to, he could take it back. Drop it off. And walk away.

But I couldn't do it.

Over and over and over, I apologized. This was so stupid! Why did I DO this?

But he couldn't do it, either.

So, we got careful instructions from our vet calls, and we scheduled an appointment for the next morning at the only place willing to take us on a Saturday.

I had to keep it alive until then. I HAD to.

It was a baby. It was sick. It was abandoned. And it trusted me.

So I put it in a box and flew to the store for supplies.

We bathed it. Cleaned and opened it's eyes. Put Neospirin on it's nose. And fed it PediaShure/Pedialyte with a dropper. And waited.

Saturday morning, when I went out to check, it was looking back up at me.

So off we went.

My mom came with me, and as best they could tell, it was only 5 weeks old. And very much still struggling for it's life.. But would absolutely not have been alive that morning if I had not picked it up.

And as far as they knew from that first initial exam, there was nothing inescapably fatal or beyond help.

We got more instructions for care, some antibiotics, and were told that if we could make it until Monday, we had a good chance.

And I got my first ever, "It's a girl. :)

And she is a fighter.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Today, it's been a week. And it's only a week... and there are still several things she will need to be tested for before she can get her ultimate "healthy" diagnosis... But it was a good week.

And for now, she is happy - continuing to improve each day.

She is now running, jumping, climbing, playing, and purring. She eats and drinks. And she even tries to use her litter box and clean herself (although she loses her balance and topples over most of the time).

She likes to be held, touched, talked to, and loved. She wants to be around people. And as soon as she can't see someone, she cries.

So she follows the boys around. Tries to keep up. (And also tries to get their wiggly little fingers and toes :) )

Today, she is normal, spunky kitty.

And her name is Beatrix.

Lots of names ran through my head, but "Beatrix" popped into my mind as I was looking down at her, cleaning her nose one night. And I just felt like it was her. And then I looked it up....

It is her name. ♥

So, stay tuned for an update on little Miss Bea later this summer... and know that I have no false hope. (Well... I'm trying not to. Logically.) We don't know where she came from or what happened to her. Or her mother. What either of them came into contact with. And until her next check up, her ultimate health will continue to be a mystery.

So we're just taking it one day at a time.

But so far? Each day is better and better.

And I know she is just a kitten. And there are 17 million more like her...

But when I think about that second I saw her tiny damaged face, and heard her crying... trying to find me, my voice, in her darkness... When I relive that split second impulse that completely overruled my brain and all of my common sense... the nearly involuntary reaction I had when I scooped up her pitiful, painful, difficult-to-look-at body... Or what would have happened to her if I fought that pull?... Well, all I know is that it definitely was not my choice. My plan.

It was something greater than me.

Reminding me that this is what you do... If you can help, you help.

You have to at least try.

.. and I will never regret that. This lesson.♥

And... it's automatic to love my children. It always has been. To care for them. To be willing to do and give anything for them. For their health. Their safety. They are literally a part of me. Unconditional love is not something I have to consider.. to choose. And I've never really thought about it. I would give my life for theirs. I have just known this about the deepest parts of me for as long as their hearts have been beating.

So, as obvious as it might sound, I know I am capable of that. As I'm sure all mothers know without thinking about it.

I did not now I was capable of this. Compassion is a tricky thing. Sometimes, I'm proud of my capacity for empathy.. and feel like I am generally able to stay pretty neutral in many discussions and issues, because I genuinely believe there are often 2 right sides.... But having empathy for other lives, and actually acting on that feeling are very different things.

So, here is the kitten - the face - that came crying towards my voice.

I know this is the face that taught me a deeper level of compassion than I have ever known - or believed I was capable of - before.

**WARNING. The first few photos of how I found her may be difficult to look at.**

Friday...