RIP Sweet Ginger

On Easter Sunday as I was doing the afternoon chores, somewhat drunk tipsy from drinking mimosas with the neighbors all day, I heard the unmistakable meow that only kittens make.  It was coming from our hay shed and as I poked around looking for the source, she saw me and came right to me.  I scooped her up and waited for her siblings to chime in.  They didn’t.  I waited for Momma to return.  She didn’t.

kit 1

That evening after a trip to Wal-Mart for replacement milk and the smallest syringe we could find we set up a kitten box and started the process of feeding, eliminating and just generally trying to keep this little girl alive.  I guessed her to be two weeks old.  In my head I named her Ginger, but knew better than to say it out loud.


Although the hubby and I tried to puzzle it out and somehow come up with a management situation to incorporate this sweet girl into our lifestyle, in the end given her needs and our jobs it really wasn’t feasible to feed her every 2-3 hours.  Not to mention that with three dogs in the house, two of which are hounds, this new snack addition was not an ideal situation.

kit 4
I will help “take care” of that kitten

In the end we decided to take her to Animal Care and Control.  We are fortunate that our county facility actually has a kitten nursery.  I figured it was the best shot we could give her and I was actually hopeful when we left her there, that they would support her until she was old enough to be adopted.

Today I called to see how she was doing.  She didn’t make it.  They had to make the call to euthanize her about a week after we dropped her off.  She was just too malnourished and dehydrated.  I’m heartbroken.  Rest in peace sweet little girl.  I’m sorry we could not do better by you.

2 thoughts on “RIP Sweet Ginger

  1. I can’t “like” this post, but I love that you did your best. I know I couldn’t feed a kitten from a syringe and not get attached.My heart breaks a little with yours. You gave love to a helpless animal who would have suffered much more had you not cared for her. That love was not wasted. I had never lived with a hound dog before Doodle, but now I understand. When we see a cat outside and Doodle starts baying, my husband says, “Doodle LIKES to play with kitties.” Having a cat in the house with our hound would be very stressful to say the least.

    Liked by 1 person

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