Of Death and Taxes (but not taxes)

Do you ever get that sinking feeling when you realise that you've got yourself into a situation that you really don't want to be in, but there is nothing you can do about it?

On Tuesday, Libby rang me just before I left work and told me about an abandoned kitten that she had seen crying at the side of the road. Unfortunately, we are both softies - so I cycled that way on my way home, and couldn't leave it by the side of the road.

It was crawling with bugs (ticks we think) and caked in little thread like white things - probably worms of some kind, and it's eyes were glued shut with conjunctivitus. And it was filthy.

So I spent a couple of hours bathing it, and coming out all the worms - even after two dunkings it was still making the towel brown when I rubbed it dry - but it was looking a lot more healthy.

We then tried feeding it milk with a syringe - which was fairly tricky, as it didn't really seem to get the idea.



This was the point at which we realised the great advantage of having two guys outside your house who are being paid to stay awake all night :). We asked the guard to watch the kitten during the night, and feed it when it cried. In the morning it seemed like they had done a pretty good job. And during the day Focus, our day guard, was good at looking after it. Libby also washed it's eyes with salt water solution. We only ever got it able to open one of them, but it gunged up fairly quickly again.

For 24 hours or so it seemed to do OK, and we kept shoving the milk in. Unfortunately Libby then read online that you should never give a small kitten cows milk :(

So we resorted to a recommended solution of condensed milk and water and mayonnaise. This just seemed to make a sticky mess.

Anyway, by Thursday night it became pretty clear that it wasn't doing so well. It could hardly hold it's head up, was having difficulty swallowing, and had minimal body heat. I gave it to the guard with a half prayer that it would die quickly and painlessly. Unfortunately it hung on, and by the morning it was in an even worse state. Dominic (the guard who'd done most of the feeding) confided to me that it would die soon - which I'd worked out for myself. Interestingly, he was quite shocked at my suggestion that we 'help' it die -"that would be killing it" he said.

Anway, I left it with him and we went variously to work and assembly.

By the time I got home at lunch, Libby had asked our neighbour to 'help' it die. Although none of the Tanzanian's were willing to do the deed, they were all concerned that if it was left to die on it's own all the bugs which they believed were infesting it, would all crawl out and infest us (ticks, we think). I think it was for the best anyway.

Which raises an interesting question - why is it so clearly merciful to put a suffering kitten out of it's misery, but we would shy away from even considering doing it for a person? (Don't worry, I'm not about to be converted to euthanasia, but it's an interesting question - answers on a postcard).

Anyway, we all have the inevitable emotional shell shock except the kids of course, who were just temporarily mildly sad).

I don't have any idea whether it's true or not, but the idea of the kitten now gambolling happily and healthily in heaven is quite comforting.

When I was cleaning it up when we'd first found it, it made me think of what God does for us - picking us up, abandoned at the edge of the road, cleaning us up and giving us a chance - I guess he's better at knowing what we need, and keeping us alive.

Why did this little episode happen? - no idea
Am I happy or sad that it happened? - no idea

And we move on...