Calling Cats Kittens, Digging In and Fighting

THE PRECIOUS KITTEN (I call all cats "kittens") spent the first six years of her life outdoors, in my garage and yard. She, with her mother, siblings,aunt, and cousins, ten in all, were well provided with an electric blanket on a mattress in winter, a ten foot tall cat tree with compartments, and an enormous hollow wooden box,a room of many mansions, for their perpetual exploration. They seemed to love all these amenities. There was and still is no room in my two car garage for my car. I did manage, however,to squeeze out a parking place in half of the garage, for emergency use only,in case of hail or tornados, but the fit was, and is, quite tight. Ah, the things we do for our beloved! Two mothers had come to me as feral strays, I took them in, and when they felt safely ingratiated, they proudly brought forth their heretofore hidden litters of four, like a girl friend, who, on the third date,says; "By the way honey, I have four kids." Gradually, over the years, the crowd thinned out. Males do not like be be ensconced with spayed females; a couple of them left home for greener, less crowded pastures; I love and miss them, and wish them well. If they hadn't found a better place, with less competition for attention, they would have come back, hungry, but they did not. I will always wonder how their lives went, but I will never know. Those that remained all remained remarkably healthy, and six years went by amazingly fast. We all know how that goes. In less than half a decade I had spent nearly half my life savings, which were not insubstantial, on veterinarian care, spaying, neutering, annual vaccines, the works. As any pet caregiver knows, veterinarians are inordinately expensive. Doctors are well paid, arguably, justifiably. But pet lovers become poor,draining their bank accounts on health care. Who needs to retire, travel, and tour Europe? Suddenly, the cute long haired Maine Coonish female, named "Diamond" started losing weight. Snot hung from her mouth and nostrils. It happened and worsened fast. The vet did X rays and blood work, and a thousand dollars later somberly informed that my baby girl was in dire peril, with a bacterial infection, and hugely swollen heart and kidneys. The doctor looked at me gravely, knowing that I knew the decision was mine. I told him that I was aware of my responsibilities, but asked for his best advice. "There are no wrong choices", he somberly replied. "Let her go, or dig in and fight". Without hesitation, I chose the latter. We would dig in and fight. Now she lives indoors with my indoor only twelve year old kitten "Mandi", who tolerates nobody. Diamond has half the house, Mandi the other half, and the twain shall never meet. Both are adjusting remarkably well. I am planning to take Diamond outside for a visit with her family, and to maybe return to them. She took to her litter box like Maine Coons to catnip. My girl is making a remarkable recovery. On steroids, she started eating everything in the house, and magically went from skin and bones four pounds to six,and is still growing and improving. She needs to top out at about eight.She sleeps on my chest, and purrs. Eventually I may have to put her on a diet, to stabilize her weight.This arduous adventure is ongoing, and may always be. Is it all worth it? When she sleeps on my chest and purrs, the answer is obvious.