He came into our lives when I needed him the most.
They called him Dustball as he looked a lot like a dustball, blowing in the breeze. I will never forget the day we went to the Oliver farm to choose one of Taz' offspring. They were all orphaned at two weeks of age as their mommy, Taz, was hit by a car.
We walked into the milking barn, expecting to perhaps take home one of the two orange kittens. Suddenly this tiny little thing came running up to my feet and stopped to look up at me. He opened his mouth but there was only a little squeak. He really was the ugliest kitten I'd ever seen.
I instantly fell in love and he came home with us.
Dustball didn't have much of a coat. In fact his belly was completely fur-less and what pathetic amount he had on his tail, had to be trimmed off as he was covered in poop. He did live in a barn, after all.
When the Vet first saw him, he guessed him to be about five weeks old. He was actually nine weeks old. None the less, he was too frail for vaccinations at that time.
As time went on, Dustball's favourite activity was to lie on the kitchen floor and attack our feet as we went by. My son then began to call him the Foot Troll, which eventually was shortened to the Troll.
Troll in hidingHe's a spitfire, that Troll. He's my rough, tough, little cream puff. He has the character I've never known in a cat. He wrassles with our dog, Mollie and even playfully swats at her tail. He's never shown fear in all of his seven years.
A couple of years ago Troll developed his first Urinary Tract Infection. He was put on anti-biotics and the infection went away. For a short time. Not wanting him constantly on anti-biotics, I looked into more holistic ways to keep him healthy. For the most part, he did really well with very few episodes of distress.
By today, Troll could barely move. He had to pretty much crawl to where he wanted to get. I couldn't watch him suffer any longer so we made the appointment to have him euthanized.
Well to my surprise, the Vet we saw today was very encouraging as she talked to us about trying to save him. She got a catheter into him and the draining started.
Our Troll is there for the night. He has intravenous as well as the catheter doing whatever they can to get him through this.
Now if you've read this to the end, you will understand what a fighter this boy is. I'm not ready to let him go and I know he's not ready to let go either.
Until next time...