Tales of Pet Rescues

I was working for the company that handled the concessions in Veteran's Stadium in Philadelphia when a member of the maintenance crew brought the small kitten to me. I was well known as the "go to" person for animal problems.

The kitten, about 8 weeks old, was screaming its lungs out. He had it wrapped in a cloth napkin from the restaurant with only its head out. He explained to me he was up on the top level when he heard its cries from a utility room. Checking it out he discovered the kitten, alone, trapped with one leg wedged between a pipe and the wall, the pipe traveled across the wall horizontally until it met up with a vertical pipe that traveled several feet down the wall and disappeared into the wall. As it got closer to the bottom, it got closer to the wall, the kitten must have been walking along the horizontal pipe, lost its balance and fell with its foreleg going between the vertical pipe and the wall, wedging tightly at the base, the kitten was trapped. Heaven knows for how long.

He handed me the napkin, I removed it to reveal a grossly swollen and cold limb. I wasn't very optimistic for the kittens survival as I left work and headed to the vet with her. For a wild born kitten, she was amazingly calm as she sat snuggled in the lap of a co-worker, but showed no deliberate movement in the leg.

After examing the leg, the vet advised me to take her home, spend the weekend massaging the leg, trying to restore the blood flow and bring her back on Monday. My best efforts all weekend trying to restore circulation to the limb were clearly in vain, the kitten just drug the leg around and it remained cold as ice.

Monday came and I headed to the vet with a heavy heart that I was going to have to have her euthanized. The vet agreed the leg could not be saved, but assured me that amputating the leg, especially a foreleg in a kitten this young, would be something she would easily adapt to and she would get along just fine without the leg. And so I agreed.

I was amazed at how well she responded, seemingly relieved to have the cumbersome limb gone and in only a few days was running around my house play fighting with my cats, as quick as any kitten her age and every bit as rambunctious. As she dashed around the house, unless you saw her from a certain angle, you would have no idea there was a missing limb.

Do you remember the Island of Misfit Toys? My house was the Home of Misfit Pets. I was always bringing home strays, I placed those I could, those I couldn't remained with me. Living in a small 2 bedroom rowhome with 3 dogs, a rabbit and about 8 cats at the time, I was thrilled when the mother of the vet tech who assisted in the kittens' surgery wanted to adopt her. This was one misfit that would go to a home where she would be the center of attention and loved and cared for all her life. Years later the vet tech advised me she had grown into a typical obnoxious queen of the household and they all loved her dearly.