Saving Stella

I was recently adopted by a cat. Months ago this little white scraggy looking creature started hanging around my house. Out of pity, I put out my tuna cans for consumption. She'd eat, then skulk away, and maybe come back a few days later. This went on for a while, and then she disappeared. I think perhaps to have kittens, who I don't think survived, as she, at the time, looked quite pregnant and walked with a limp.

Fast forward to about two weeks ago. My little friend had returned, and this time regularly. I bought actual cat food and she camped herself in front of my house, not moving a great deal. Her eyes were usually half closed and glassy, she was filthy, and quite lethargic. Then one morning I went to open my front gate to leave for school and she ran across my front yard, startled by the noise. However, her "run" was lopsided and clumsy, as if her left rear leg wasn't properly in the socket. She looked terrible. I had to do something. I could no longer watch this creature suffer on my doorstep.

I came into work unable to concentrate. My co-workers suggested we ask the people in the Animal Husbandry department (their version of a Veterinarian) if they could help. When I walked into their office, I met the "vet", a 28 year old woman who looked no older than 18, about five feet tall and 100 pounds soaking wet. They were kind and the vet's assistant spoke decent English. She gave me her cell phone number and told me to call her if the cat continues to get worse. They offered to come to my house and check on her. I breathed a sign of relief. Thank God for animal lovers.

Later that afternoon I found her in the back lot behind my place. There was blood on her tail and she could not walk. She looked like she hadn't had access to fresh water in weeks. I called the vet. They arrived with medical supplies in hand and we spent a good 30 minutes getting her into a box and had to inject her with a sedative to calm her down, scratches and bites covering our arms. She was so dehydrated her skin stuck together when we pinched it, and although her leg was not broken, she howled when we touched her hip. After much negotiation and translation we hoped in a cab to take her to a vet across town that had the proper X-Ray machine. Once there, they tried to insert an IV into her arms, but her veins had already collapsed and the only way to get water into her system was to inject it directly under her skin. That seemed to work, thankfully. The X-Rays showed her leg was dislocated from the hip. She was, however, too weak for surgery of any kind.

We decided she needed to recover back at the clinic on my campus. In the cab ride there we almost lost her. She laid in a cardboard box on my lap, and I never took my hand off of her. Her body temperature was getting quite low, and she wasn't moving. My dormant maternal instincts kicked in and I swore to myself this cat was not going to die on my watch. I sat there, in the dark, pouring rain and traffic outside the window, helpless tears begging to fall down my checks, promising her she was going to live. Willing her to keep breathing.

Two days later, after constant visitations and love, the vet suggested I take her home to recover at my house. The responsibility was huge, but I couldn't say no. As we were about to put her in the carrier I had purchased for the transfer, I was informed that in addition to her dislocated leg, she also had a hernia. The poor thing must have been so uncomfortable. But again, there was nothing they could do until she got stronger. I was apparently the first "native" speaker they had had as a client, so before we left they took pictures of me, got my contact information, and asked if they could come to my house on occasion to practice their English. I said of course. These women saved an animal's life and I owed them so much. Before I left the vet looked at me and said, "I'm so glad I met you". The feeling was mutual.

I've had her for 6 days now, and the first 4 were quite stressful. She barely moved and ate sporadically. I had to force fluids into her mouth with a syringe, which she hated. I kept an eye on her, giving her love and affection as much as possible while still trying to respect that she is a wild animal. Then, two nights ago, she turned a corner. She went from resenting me for capturing her to purring like mad every time she saw me. She now wolfs her food gratefully and walks around my back "yard" on her own. I'm not sure what happened, but I'm a lot less fearful to come home at the end of the day. I named her Stella for her strength and will to live. She reminds me of the Tennessee Williams character in so many ways. She's a survivor, and a welcome addition to my life.

I don't let her in the house because she is indeed dirty and loves to sit among the plants and bugs in the back garden. But I now eat my meals and check my email in the back with her, and we sit down each night and chat. She likes to watch the rain and lay sprawled out in the sun. My goal is to let her stay at my place for another week or so, and then take her back to the vet for the necessary operations. I'm also going to get her fixed. She doesn't need anymore dying babies, as I'm pretty sure if she did have kittens, they didn't make it (however, now I know it could have been her hip/hernia causing the lopsided stride). This whole process has been expensive, but if I don't take care of her, no one will. She chose me. I will not let her down.

I will eventually let her back out into the "wild", but only when her body can handle it. When I leave for Chicago, I hope to find a local family to look after her.

It's so nice having another living creature at my house. I've come to accept (and admit) that I'm fairly lonely in my huge house alone. I recently installed cable t.v. because I couldn't stand not hearing conversation around me any longer. And the four types of HBO don't hurt.

In other news, I've been buried under books about US History and culture. I'm teaching two sections of American Studies this term and have never been so excited about a class. I've been in constant touch with friends from home, asking for help in making this course as exciting and rich as possible. I've ordered quite a few movies and books online and literally dream about their arrival and reception by my students. I'm also teaching Drama again, but this time Shakespeare and pre-modern works. Challenging to say the least. I cannot wait!

My class schedule allows ample time for travel this semester. Next weekend I'm planning to visit Borneo with the other Courtney in Malang to drop in on some orangoutangs in the jungle. I have a good feeling about my last four months. I'll keep you all posted.