A. L. Shorb
Whisper was found as a baby after his mother disappeared and his littermates had starved to death. Because he wasn't expected to live through the night, nobody wanted to take him home and have their kids see him die. When he was brought to me, he was only skin and bones, badly dehydrated, had eye infections and upper respiratory infection. Because of hunger, he'd chewed his tongue til it was raw. I thought all I could do was make him a little more comfortable during his last hours. He slept that night on my chest. When he would wake, I'd give him his medicine or a saline injection or just squeeze drops of goat milk into his mouth. I"m happy to say that Whisper did make it thru the night and beyond. Because of his tongue, he never learned how to suck a bottle but we overcame that by learning that I could hold the bottle and squeeze while he caught the drops. A round-the-clock process, but it worked. Even so, it was a relief when, three weeks later, he took his first bite of solid food. Today he is strong and healthy. The only reminder of his ordeal is his low voice probably caused by damage to his vocal cords after hours of calling for his mother. He's recovering from castration and his second set of shots are due in two weeks. After that I plan to take him outside for awhile and introduce him to playing in the sunshine and green grass.