One morning we got a call from my mom. Her cousin had called her about this cat that was due to be put down in 1 hour at her local vet. We called up the vet to rescue her. We went over and the Veterinarian and all of the staff were terrified of this little 3LB cat. She howled like a jaguar. We had to convince them we had exerience with feral cats, and release them of liability if this 3 pound furball killed us. We took Teena home, she wouldn't let us touch her, so we sat down and started reading books. In about 20 minutes she was rubbing on us. In a few hours she was best friends with our other cat, who never liked any other cat before. It ws obvious she didn't know how to be a cat. We taught her how to purr, how to play, how to clean herself (she got many baths) It took a few weeks, but we determined she had Stomatitis, then nearly unheard with very little info. We got her on medication + surgery, and she ate like she'd never be able to again. She was always tiny, but she went from 3 pounds to 12, and a diet was needed to get her back to 8. When my ex left she became a talker and cuddler, always on my shoulder as soon as I walked in the door. On December 6th she lost bladder control and was very sick. I took her to the vet many times. She seemed to get better, the doctors couldn't nail down a cause. December 24th she got a nice heated cat bed which she loved. I didn't then know that on December 25th I would rush her 45 min to the emergency clinic. Her body temperature was dropping, she had FIP. She had a seizure, and I had to let her go. I gave her an extra 5 years of happiness. Toshi, the other cat, still walks around meowing for her friend to come out and play.
St. Louis, MO