In Rambo's Memory

We named this little guy Rambo...
Because he fought a good fight for his life... before dying.




I really don't know what attacked him. I had no sooner finished an e-mail and my last post on the blog that my parents called me because we had to leave for Tarragona. I closed everything and while I waited for everyone I went downstairs to watch the kittens play and feed.
I found Rambo lying on the floor, supposedly sleeping. I didn't like them to be on the bare floor because the tiles can be very cold and they can catch a cold, so I picked little Rambo up and indeed found him dead cold! I was somewhat alarmed, but thought that maybe he'd caught cold from the floor, so I kepts him in my hands to warm him up, and when it was time to leave, I left him among the other kittens so they would be all warm and together. But then I noticed he started vomiting and having convulsions, and he could hardly breathe. I went to tell my Mama, really scared now, and after she saw him she agreed that he didn't look well at all. The dilemma now was what to do, and after pondering about all, they decided to leave me home to take care of him. I was to keep him wrapped up in a towel, rub him often to make his body warm, and feed him every twenty minutes.
Once he was in my care, I started doing as I had been told, and thankfully observed how he came to life a little bit. He opened his tiny eyes and mewed feebly. Something curious though, happened. His head and upper body warmed up, but his bottom and back legs were freezing cold. His stomach was swelled, too.
And I continued rubbing him and feeding him warm cat-milk, and in desperation got online to search for kitten disease, their symptoms and what is supposed to do, but my search was in vain. I didn't find anything related to what was happening to little Rambo.
Oh, I felt so awful! I felt so useless! This tiny, sweet furry ball of a kitten was lying in my hands for warmth, struggling for breath and continually vomiting amid convulsions, and I couldn't help him!
After a while, I noticed his mouth was dry and blue. I warmed up some water and gently let some drops of water trickle down my fingers to his tiny mouth, and then, he stopped moving. That had happened before, so I waited for some time for him to have another convulsion, but he didn't move again. I then realised that the tiny kitten was dead.
And yes, I cried.
So this post goes for him. Because he fought to live until he couldn't go on.
Little Rambo.