I hate watching animals die, or suffer. They don’t have the capacity to understand what’s happening to them, so fear sets in when they are in pain. Sometimes you can help. Sometimes the only merciful thing to do is to end their pain in a very final sort of way, which is a miserable call to have to make.
I found one of the kittens this morning almost unresponsive, limp as a rag, mouth kind of hanging open, with the death look in his little eyes. He is one of the bigger kittens, and yesterday was healthy and vibrant. I ran up to the house with him, got him warm, tried to give a little molasses water, and was afraid I was watching him die.
A little frantic racking of my brain and consulting Google, and he responded almost instantaneously to Caro syrup in his cheek, and quickly was ready for calf milk replacer. A few hours later and you’d never know anything was wrong! The kittens will officially be getting supplemental milk until they take to kibble.
This is one of many times I’ve been thankful for the medical training I have. God’s creation is beautifully organized, and His warm blooded, four-footed critters operate about the same as His two-legged critters.
I hate watching animals die. So I’m thankful I didn’t have to.
Song Dog Journal 