I must be a blind kitten magnet. Remember the one from the Starbuck’s parking lot? If that one was pathetic, this one’s a travesty.
This little five month-old was found in one of my clients’ back yards. The black and white female was discovered hunched over and staring at the ground, pitifully reminiscent of a target…for three big dogs (who were almost unleashed in her direction before it was too late).
Rescued in the nick of time, this kitten was obviously damaged—as in, brain damaged. Though her pupils were reacting to light somewhat appropriately, it was clear that nothing was registering in her little brain. And blindness was just the tip of the iceberg. She couldn’t walk, hear, drink or eat. So the kids named her Helen (as in Keller).
Now, this “miracle worker” has a new charity case on her hands. Helen’s been relinquished to my care.
You may think me quite an idiot to take on a cat that should probably be euthanized. But Helen’s made progress in the week she’s been with me. She can eat, drink, slink around, use the litterbox and purr. Sure, she mostly sits in her hunched position and does nothing for hours at a time, but she doesn’t seem painful or otherwise disturbed. In fact, it’s probably a blessing she can’t hear the barking dogs.
Now I just need to find a willing home to take on her continued recuperation and household integration. It’s true, she may never recover fully. From the steady pace of her improvement, I’ve got to assume that her condition was likely acquired subsequent to head trauma—not the result of some devastating infection or congenital abnormality. That means she could possibly reach normal catdom…or she may just plateau out at the lovable, half-witted bundle she is now.
Either way, Helen’s just another aging kitten, exemplary of all the others I’ve been hard pressed to home over the past few months. Perhaps her condition and special-needs status will lend her plight some much-needed publicity. Maybe the holidays will find someone feeling extra-generous.
In any case, Helen is a low-maintenance kitten who will no doubt leave your Christmas tree standing and its wires and baubles undigested. In fact, as long as you can handle the sight of her pathetic creeping and face-stabbing approach to food ingestion, she’s the perfect cat. So at the risk of allowing this post to devolve into a kitten adoption plea, let me just beg: Whaddaya say? Wanna kitten? I'll fly her anywhere...
