Well, friends... this morning, approximately three weeks following being attacked by several neighborhood dogs, our darling little Carlos passed away.
It had been touch and go all week... his wounds had begun to deteriorate over last weekend, and although he was active and eating, the wounds were not healing as they should´ve. We began noticing a variety of creepy-crawlies bothering him, and this week I decided to go back the vet for an antibiotic spray that had an insect repellent as well as a larvacide in it, in hopes that treating Carlos would prevent anything from getting into his wounds.
I was not prepared for what I found when I treated him with the medicine. Let´s just put it this way- I have decided that when I return home I want to study to become a doctor. Lately I had been wondering if I had a strong enough stomach to handle the task. Well, what I saw when I sprayed the material on his back gave me all the proof I needed to know that I could handle whatever medical school could throw at me. It was then that I suspected that our time was short with our baby.
After thoroughly cleaning the wound as directed, and discovering that his tail was no longer attached to his body, I simply cradled him in my arms, wrapped in a towel, for about an hour. I knew we were faced with a difficult path. If Carlos survived, there would be no telling what we´d have to do to keep him healthy in the long run, and if he died we would have nowhere to bury the body. Also, considering that I was due to leave for the states in a few days, I recognized that something conclusive needed to happen before I left. So I prayed, initially for his survival, but as I held the tiny frail body I knew that death would be a more gracious end for my little friend. So I prayed instead that the will of God be done, but quickly.
Yesterday, when I checked on him, his wound seemed to have scabbed over, and although he was weak, he was still eating. This morning when I opened the door, I was astonished to see bodily fluids all over the room, and poor Carlos weakly pulling himself toward the door. I knew, but didn´t want to believe, so I prepared a bucket of mop water with the intention of cleaning the floor and preventing any further pests from invading. When I returned with the bucket, he was curled up and coughing. I knew it was the end, and woke Roman. Then I returned to the room and held my kitten´s head , petting him until I knew for sure that he was gone. I told Roman, who came to see the body before I could pack him away, and Sally- our dear friend Sally- sent her husband to pick up and bury the little guy on their beautiful ranch overlooking the ocean.
Through it all, I have maintained my composure. I think it is mostly because I knew that we couldn´t care for him if he had survived, partially paralyzed. Also, I think it as a lot to do with the fact that I had already grieved over his loss when he was first attacked. Now all that remained was the formality of waiting for his death and making sure he was sent off properly.
But he is missed. And will be for a long time to come.
