Sashi

I found Sashi one spring day in a rainstorm. She was walking in the middle of the road. She wore a little pink collar that had wrapped around her torso and front leg, making it difficult for her to walk. She was emaciated. I went to a nearby farmhouse to see who she might belong to. An older man answered the door. He said she wasn't his, and if he saw her on his property any longer, he would shoot her.

Sashi's eyelids were closed. When she opened her eyes, the nictitating membrane completely covered them, making her eyes look grey and ghostly. Mucus had washed away all the fur on her face. She could barely breathe due to congestion, so she breathed with her mouth wide open. She was extremely skinny. Her bones could be traced through her skin. It seemed death had already taken her, but she was still alive. She smelled badly of decay.

When I held her, she purred loudly. I could see her spirit in her beauty. She wanted to live and had a passion I will never know or understand. When I took her to the emergency clinic, the veterinarian on duty could not determine whether she was male or female because she was so underweight and dehydrated. She stayed overnight in the hospital, given IV fluids around the clock, for three days.

Sashi had a cleft palate, a congenital hole in the roof of her mouth. It prevents food and water from entering the esophagus which leads to the stomach. Any food or water she tried to consume would come out of her nose, causing her to panic, choke or aspirate. I was told this could be fixed by surgery, and that if she didn't have the surgery, she wouldn't live.

The surgeries were sadly painful for her, invasive, and unsuccessful. Sashi saw a "specialist" who made the problem much worse, performed repeated surgeries that had already failed, and continued with those surgeries even when I had instructed him not to. With every surgery, he would disappear for two weeks, leaving me and Sashi to suffer in silence. No vet would work on his cases. He instructed them not to. It is because of numerous painful invasive surgeries that she nearly died a second time (the first time had been when I found her). And it was because of these horrible surgeries that I vowed never to harm her again, and to explore homeopathy.

I thought I had "saved" her to torture her. After the specialist's last surgery, the hole had expanded to three times its original size. A big matt of hair had blocked her breathing passages and she had a raging respiratory/nasal infection. Scar tissue in her mouth was so severe that there was no hope for any future surgeries, if I had wanted that as an option. Due to his incompetence and deplorable techniques, she ended up with no upper palate. She had no "roof" to her mouth. I hope this veterinarian loses his license one day or gets what he deserves for the suffering he caused my little kitty. We both suffered tremendously through the experience.

Sashi, when I rescued her, had wanted to live. So I pursued. I wasn't going to rescue her to kill her. The failed surgeries made us both feel hopeless. I tried to put food in her tummy to bypass the hole in her mouth. I got better at this with time. I did this with luer lock syringes (very tricky to get from a vet). I treated her with homeopathy. I mixed water in her food, so that she would get needed hydration. I repeated her feedings multiple times daily so she would get enough nutrition. Sashi was a trooper and helped me every step of the way. She would wait for her feedings and stay still while I tried to put the luer lock syringe in her mouth. She would aspirate sometimes, but at other times, she did very well. She knew I was trying to help her, so she helped me in return.

Over time, I continued to perfect my skills and technique through experience. I fed her healthier food and used a food processor. Sometimes, I used baby food. Food and water had to be fed to her simultaneously through a milky gruel. She accepted her feedings and tolerated my ineptness. She lived for another seven and a half years. I fed her food and water through luer lock syringes two to four times daily for seven years. I loved her to bits.

Sashi would ride in the car with me and my canine companion, Dolph. She would follow me on walks. She would sleep with me at night. She loved to be cuddled. She knew "toasty warm" meant run to her heating pad. I could take her on road trips. She always wanted to be close to me. We had an incredible bond. By the end of her life, she physically looked healthy and beautiful. She was glowing with a gorgeous coat. Her eyes were bright and blue and she was a solid eight pounds. Very different from how I found her at two pounds and how the surgeries had left her, and made her physically feel.

Sashi was euthanized in my home in 2003. She was diagnosed with kidney failure. She lasted months after she was already diagnosed as terminal. Sashi still wanted to live. I don't think she was ready to move on. I was Sashi's life line because I was responsible for her feedings. Sashi was hungry, but she couldn't eat anymore without feeling ill afterwards. Her kidneys were too weak. I didn't know what to do. More than likely, all the excess protein from the food I had fed her early on, and too little water, with the lasting effects of repeated anesthesia, over the course of her life, took its toll.

Sashi was the love of my life. I wish people who know me now, but didn't know me then, could have seen the bond we shared. She was my magical kitty. She was super intelligent, friendly, beautiful and kind. She had a spirit that is beyond any being I have ever known or met. She suffered tremendously, but still showed love and compassion to all. She was the light of my life. She is always in my heart.