A Christmas Miracle - Thumper's story

A Christmas Miracle – Thumper’s story

The little grey and white kitten started life out as a late fall kitten born in the barn.  He was one of three kittens who survived his harsh beginnings and tough life as of an out of season birth.  There was no special kitty food just regular adult cat food and the small rodents his mother hunted and brought back for her kittens.  The cold weather meant time was spent huddled together with a handful of other cats keeping warm.  As the fall deepened into winter the snow and ice came and water was not regularly brought to the barn.  The mother cat didn’t let her kittens nurse very often so they had to make do with snow and the infrequent watering. As the kittens grew bigger they learned to jump up on the horse’s watering tanks and drink from the open hole where the water de-icer kept a small portion of water clear. 
The temperatures dipped to -35 and hovered there for several weeks just before Christmas.  The water line dropped below the ice and soon it was a drop of several inches to reach the water.  The older wiser cats knew how to hang on the edge and reach down for the water but for the kittens it was a dangerous stretch to reach for the water.
The little grey kitten woke up thirsty one bitterly cold morning and followed the other cats out for a drink.  The water level had dropped again and now was all but impossible to reach for the small kitten but thirst overcame his fear and he leaned in to try and reach the water.  It was a  terrible mistake as somehow he slipped and partially fell into the water, soaking his hind legs.  The kitten managed to cling to the ice with his front feet and survived what would have been a fatal drop into the water.  Wet and shivering he clawed his way on top of the ice but faced even more danger.  Unaware that sitting on the ice with wet fur and the freezing cold would put him in even more jeopardy he sat down near the edge of the ice hole. In a few moments he realized his mistake as the ice gripped his short back legs in a frozen embrace and he couldn’t pull free.  He turned and twisted and tried to free himself from the icy fingers that held his little legs in a death grip but no matter what he did he couldn’t free himself.  The other two kittens sat beside him, helpless to do anything but watch.
This is my side of the story, I was a bit late in coming out to feed the animals that morning and when I approached the water tank I didn’t realize the predicament that the one tiny kitten was in. I thought they had just come for a drink and hadn’t left the ice yet.  I grabbed a wooden pole to break the ice and shooed the kittens off the ice.  The other two kittens jumped off immediatly and when I tried again to shoo the little grey kitten, he didn’t move and I instantly realized what had happened.  Dismay clouded my thoughts as I imagined all kinds of sad scenarios for the kitten while I moved to help him.
I went over the top of the fence and tried to pull him off the ice but he was stuck fast.  He was still very warm and not shivering so I hoped he hadn’t been stuck very long but with the extremely cold weather I knew he wouldn’t last long if I didn’t free him and get him warm. Time was ticking.
I ran to the house and got a gallon of hot water and ran back to see if I could free him. I poured the water on the ice and gently began tugging his legs.  The water freed one leg but the other was still stuck fast by the time I used up all the water.  There was no going back to the house for more water as he would just be stuck again with both legs.  I knew I must be hurting him when I pulled a little harder on his stuck leg but I had to free him now.  The water and artic air was making him shiver and he was now much wetter than before.  With his small size he in dire straits and couldn’t hold out much longer.  I pulled out quite a bit of his hair as I gave a final yank, finally freeing him from his icy prison.  I didn’t really notice at the time as I was concentrating so hard on freeing him but he never once offered to bite or scratch me, he seemed to accept the fact that I was trying to help him.  It seemed like it took ages to get him free but probably only took a minute or two.  I cuddled him to my jacket and ran back to the house to begin the warming process.  I plopped him in the bathroom on a blanket in front of the heat vent and left him to thaw out.  I was not sure at all about the condition of the one leg as it was icy cold and stiff, he might have been on the ice longer than I thought. I left him sitting there and went back to do the chores.
The kitten was curled up on the blanket when I returned and submitted quietly to me picking him up and feeling his legs.  The one leg seemed to be warm to the touch but the other leg was still very cold and had not warmed up at all, it didn’t look good.  I thought what am I going to do with this cat?  There are three house cats already and I sure don’t want another inside one.  I can’t put him back outside as that would surely kill him within a day or so.  I tried not to think about him as living animal and just thought about myself and how this was going to impact my life.  I felt as long as I kept my distance from him  it wouldn’t be as hard to put him down.  I refused to give him a name as I was not going to spend a lot of money on a barn cat a few days before Christmas.
My older son wandered into the room and asked what had happened and as I explained the story I told him he might have to put him down in a day or so if his leg didn’t get better.  I thought, well that is the end of that; I will give him a couple of days inside and its up to him.
I went off to work and see my other two kids before the next day which was their first day of Christmas holidays.  I explained what had happened and told them to look after him and I would see how he was doing in a day or so and decide what was going to happen.  I warned them that he might have to be put down so don’t get attached.
The second day it was obvious his leg was deteriorating as there was a break in the skin and it was starting to drain and smell stinky.  I was still sitting on the fence about what to do and again told my son he should probably put him down.  In the meantime I decided I would put a bandage on the leg as I didn’t want the mess all over the house.
The kids of course named the kitten right away, ignoring my warnings about his possible sad fate.  I ignored using his name and just continued calling him “the cat” or “the kitten”.  I dint’ want to get attached to him if he was going to die anyway.
The kitten was truly amazing as the bandage on his leg and the decomposing limb didn’t seem to affect him at all.  He played and ran and jumped and just got into everything.  He held his limb off the ground and quickly learned how to motor around with three legs. He was full of life and it was hard to believe he was in a life and death struggle. He was given no antibiotics and no special medicine for his leg.  I don’t know how he didn’t develop a raging infection.
I had to change the bandage daily to keep it clean.  The kitten was a remarkable patient, he seemed to know we were helping him and he never once offered to bite or scratch.  The kids would hold him on their lap upside down and rub his belly while I cut off the bandage.  I had to tape the bandage to his fur to keep it on his leg and it was a painful process to pull the tape and cloth away from the putrefying skin.  The kitten would arch his back, stretch his head out and meow pitifully when I would make a particularly painful tug on the bandage.  He still made no attempt to strike back with these humans who were causing him pain.  He would continue to purr loudly with his eyes half closed while I worked on him.
I could see the leg was getting worse and I mentioned many times to the kids that maybe this was his last day and he should be put down.  I would  be vague about when it would happen, after all Christmas was very close and it wasn’t easy to be thinking about destroying a life that was fighting so valiantly to live.  The indomitable spirit of this tiny ball of fluff was shining through like a beacon of light. 
Barb, my husband’s cousin, came to visit from Winnipeg on Christmas Eve and that gave the kitten several more days, despite the deteriorating condition of his leg.  It was now apparent that his toes on his other back leg were also affected and probably frozen.  He lost part of his ear and the tip of his tail and really looked pitiful if you just looked at his outward appearance.  Barb didn’t see his outward condition and immediately took to the little fellow, cuddling him and sitting with him and even taking him to bed with her.  I didn’t mention doing away with him while she was here even though I had my doubts that he would survive.  I still couldn’t understand how he didn’t have a rampant infection as the leg was just hanging on by some skin and bone by this time.  I still couldn’t see paying money for him by taking him to the vet and told myself if he showed any signs of being sick I would have my son do away with him and that would be the end of it.
The kitten defied the odds though and continued to be a bright happy energetic and totally engaging feline.  He teased the house cats unmercifully, blissfully unaware that his fate was hanging by a thread.  The other cats barely tolerated him at first and refused to be drawn into his world of fun and games. The kitten would stalk their tails, tease them from under the couch and run around on his three legs.  His little bandaged leg held in the air never seemed to be noticed by him as he played and jumped and sparkled as only a kitten can do.
Barb left and made us promise to take care of him and not put him down.  I don’t think she realized just how bad his leg really was as she couldn’t bring herself to look at him while I changed the bandage.
The day after she left, as I undid the bandage from his leg I knew it was time to cut the skin and remove the wasted limb.  The skin was dead and there was no pain as I snipped it off and then wondered again for the thousand time if I was doing the right thing. His bone was still hanging on by the joint and there was nothing covering it.  I could tell the bone was dead as it was brown and he didn’t feel anything as I gently touched and moved the knob.  Surely putting him down would be the best? Was I letting sentiment overcome my good sense?  How could I be putting this innocent little life through this torture?  My thirteen year old son would barely look at him  when it was his turn to hold him on his lap and rub his belly.  My daughter was the one who held him most of the time when I changed his bandage.  When I uncovered the leg and we stared at the exposed bone she quietly asked what I thought.
I stopped looking at his leg for a moment and instead looked at his face and saw peace and contentment there. His eyes were half closed as usual and his serene purring was loud in the silence of the bathroom.  He was accepting of whatever I was doing and content to let me help him.  I sighed deeply and avoided making a decision yet again.  I still called him “the cat” and refused to allow myself to call him by his name.
It was several days later that the knob of his leg fell off in the bandage and the wound no longer seeped, it had sealed over.  I came to the decision that he wouldn’t need a bandage anymore and apparently against all odds he had somehow survived the horrific loss of his limb.
I stared at this little bundle of fur with his missing limb, lost ear, damaged tail and frozen toes. He was in his usual upside down position on my daughters lap, purring loudly, eyes half closed and content with the world.
I finally accepted the inevitable; the kitten had a name, Thumper.  He is one of the inside cats and part of the family.  He is truly our little Christmas miracle.