My good friend Robyn adopted a kitten after she lost her cat of 20 years. Howard Thomas is this new little kittie's name, and when he first was adopted, he was near death. Almost euthanized at the pound because he was so sick with a respitory infection.
Robyn's good deed is that she took him in, and nursed him back to health. I got to help out for 10 days when they were out to Hawaii, and he was at death's door. He was steamed in the shower to help free up his breathing. Medications 2 times a day. Gentle playtime so he wouldn't be bored, but also wouldn't get his heart rate up and start gasping for air. Praying that this poor little thing wouldn't die.
And he didn't.
All those meds worked, and his breathing cleared up, his eyes got brighter, and he got a spring in his step and a viscious bite in his jaws.
Yes. . .a bite.
Sir Howie has turned out to be one of the most bitey, gnawy cats I've ever met. He's also rather calculating, like a Raptor from Jurrasic Park, he waits until the right moment to spring out from behind furniture and plants to attack. Poor Robyn. You'd think he'd repay her with kindness, but apparently he has a lot of exuberance after missing out on some kittenhood.
Sometimes, cats can just be darned ungrateful.
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