My Sister’s Sister.

My sister.   

There is 11 years between us. We don’t  look alike or dress alike but our love for animals is one of our common bonds.

My sister has dedicated her life to helping animals.  Early on she worked at a “no kill” shelter and most recently  as a Vet Tech at a small veterinary office in her hometown.  She is notorious for scooping up strays off the streets no matter where she is. 

Over the  years she has brought home the sick, the depressed or the helpless newborns without a chance and nursed them all back to health.  She does not think twice about what she does, rather views it as her mission.  Animals are her passion and I love that about her. 

So Saturday morning as I road my bike down Dameron Road and heard the unmistakable cry of a kitten over the barks of three crazy guard dogs, I thought of my sister.  It is because of her that I turned my bike around.  And when I saw the tiny, frail kitten hunkered down in the tall grass on the edge of the cow pasture, it is because of her that I scooped the kitten up and took her home.

  

She was skinny, weak and somewhat stiff; obviously cold from being out all night by herself.  The fur from the top of her head, down her back to the beginning of her tail was flattened, stiff and crunchy with what looked like chewed pieces of hay.  Had she been licked by one of the Angus cows?  I wasn’t sure. 

All the way home I could hear my sister’s voice.  “Just take her to the shelter.  They will spay her and put her up for adoption.”  And so this was my plan. 

Ya.  Except I forgot about them.

An hour after I returned home I found myself in the car with the entire family on our way to the vet.  His assessment is that she is 5 weeks old, weighs just about a pound, dehydrated, slightly anemic from her flea infestation, has a serious roundworm infection, Coccidia and, most disturbing of all, the pads of her paws are burned and peeling.  This would explain the limp and funky walk.

But she is sweet and oh so friendly.  Smart, she uses the litter box already, and now that she has had 24 hours of food, antibiotics and dewormer, she is spunky, feisty and kitten crazy.  Her name is Lily Tigress (because the kids could not agree on a name) and is now a permanent member of our family

I am my sister’s sister with one huge difference.  She has the ability to give up her strays.  I, apparently, do not.