This week has been too long and it's only Wednesday. And yesterday was a holiday here in Utah, meaning I didn't work. Kinda pathetic. It all started with being a little tired and emotionally exhausted from the weekend. Family being in town can do that to you (in a good way mostly....the emotion had to do with a blessing my father gave me, not going to expound here, but I love him. And the priesthood).
Sunday night, my family had left, I was all ready to get settled in and prepare for the week when my good friends who happen to be my kitty's foster parents (I know, I know) gave me a call. 11pm, and Gidget was reportedly "leaking from her place". The baby kitties were coming. Instead of hightailing it to Draper, I decided to call it a night and check back in the morning. My sleep was restless (I'm a little nerdy about my cat). Long story short, 48 hours later, my sister and her girls had spent some time there waiting for kittens, Courtney's dog Oliver went missing, the kids spontaneously knelt in prayer on the grass outside their apartment to find him (he was later found by a kindly stranger, and the girls made welcome home signs for the pup). Gidget bled a little, I slept under a table with her, made 2 trips to the vet, and she finally had a dead kittie and no more. On the second trip to the animal hospital and after it was determined that something could be seriously wrong, I said a silent prayer that everything would work out for the best. Her symptoms were not good, and I could not pay for all the x-rays and shots and blood work and possible c-section that they thought was necessary to save the kitties and/or Gidget. It was determined that the one premature baby that didn't make it was all there was, nothing more was needed. For the best.
Ironic that tons of people between friends and family were there hanging out off and on over the 48 days, and in the first hour that I was alone with her, she produced a dead baby. My heart broke as Gidg licked the lifeless infant (eating the sac and cord, I wanted to throw up but was strong) and then finally gave up and laid there with her paw over it's little face. I felt a little helpless. I know that's not so uncommon with cat litters, but still, it was sobering.
I realize that this is just an animal, one that no longer lives with me no less. But it has left me a little drained and numb. In fact, I was a little surprised at myself. Once I was there, I don't think I left her side for more than a minute or two. And those minutes were rare. I sat on the floor next to her box hiding behind the couch. For hours. I tried watching movies, and even a little arrested development, but it just stressed me out. Nerd. About. My. Cat. I'm just glad she is okay.
PS....she's getting spayed next week. Listen to Bob Barker.