We rescued a kitten in July, just a few days before our wedding. She was in a bad way—starving and riddled with fleas and ticks. We found out she’d been wandering around the village for several weeks. We decided to keep her, treated her for fleas, fed her up... then her condition took a turn for the worse and she started bleeding. One morning, we found a stillborn kitten. We rushed her to the vet; the six-month-old kitten was pregnant and had a severe uterine infection. The vet performed a full hysterectomy. She recovered slowly and was then treated for a bad case of ear mites. Finally, everything was back on track and she was really starting to get her strength back.
Then yesterday, I was coming home from the school run with the kids. I was driving carefully, but then my eldest son got out of the car and told me the cat was scaring him. I got out too and saw the horror of it!
My cat was lying on the ground with blood around her head, but there were no visible marks from being run over; she just looked like she was lying there, but lifeless. I didn't see her coming, I didn't feel a thing! She was so full of life, a real fighter. Together, we’d fought so hard to save her, and just as everything was finally going well—she’d put on weight, was looking beautiful and had found her zest for life again—I’m the one who took her life away. I feel absolutely terrible. Sorry for such a long post, but I just needed to get it out.
