Kitastrophe

Just after I published that last post, my friend's housekeeper came over with some formula and a syringe. I tried to clean the kittens off a little bit, and I held them while Charles dribbled the formula into their mouths. They all ate, but not much.

On the advice of my friend I contacted the Egyptian Society of Animal Friends, in Maadi, and arranged to bring the kittens there. I thought I'd found a shelter to take the kittens. So I called City Cab and hired a car to take me (and the babies) to Maadi, then (just me) on to the New Campus.

The kittens were in the box and squealing the whole way to the office in Maadi, which we found without too much trouble. To my bemusement, the vet had misunderstood me on the phone and thought I was bringing in cats who just needed treatment - not fostering. He and I spent a while going back and forth, me trying to impress upon him the impossibility of my taking care of these creatures, he trying to get me to see that there are thousands of stray cats in Cairo and the shelters are overloaded.

We even thought about shipping the kittens back to my building for the bawaaba to take care of. But when the vet offered to provide written instructions, I realized there was no way my (illiterate, underage mother) bawaaba was going to be able to handle this.

Finally, the vet said I could leave the kittens at the clinic while he tried to find a shelter for them. I made a donation to the Society and headed to work.

He called me a few minutes ago to tell me that one of the kittens is dead and a second is dying fast.

I didn't ask which one was dead, and which dying.

And I haven't even started my day yet.