I'm crying... It's not that this is a touching story, but just remembering something.
In September last year, I picked up a stray cat. When I picked it up, it was the size of a finger. Because there was no female cat to lick the secretions in its eyes, it caused infection and inflammation. Take it to the hospital. After the doctor cleaned it, he found that his left eye had been perforated in the cornea, and said he might have to remove the eyeball. I cried on the spot, wiping my tears and asking the doctor if there is no other way. The doctor said that it would be treated conservatively. Give it eye drops, three bottles of eye drops, two bottles of anti-inflammatory, and one bottle that promotes the regeneration of the cornea. See if it can heal on its own.
In this way, the three bottles of eye drops were used in turn. I set multiple alarm clocks and gave them a dozen drops a day. Before the eye drops, the eyes should be cleaned with normal saline. Because his eyes kept secreting things, it turned out that the upper right eyelid was missing, the eyelid turned inward, and the eyelashes were always worn to the eyeballs. I hurriedly went to see the doctor again. The doctor said that a minor operation would be needed to stitch the third eyelid or something. I didn’t understand it at the time because the doctor said it was too small, about 15 days old, and couldn’t do it. The operation, plus it was too skinny at the time, the doctor said that it might not survive the operation, let's talk about it later depending on the situation.
After that, I went back in a daze, because my colleagues and leaders knew it was picked up by the company during a collective trip. During that time, I took it to the company every day, put it on the chair, and gave it eye drops and breastfeeding at intervals. The leader didn't say anything, and sometimes he would come over and take a look at it. By the way, its right front paw was severely swaying, and it should have landed on the sole of the foot, but it was almost on the ground with its calf, and it was very unstable when walking, like a bench with short legs, always turning over the whole body.
During that time, I put it in a cardboard box at work every day, and then put it in a bag to carry it. Because I couldn't take the subway and the bus was very crowded, I could only hold it with one hand and the handrail with the other. Don't dare to put it on the ground, for fear that it will slip out or hit something when it brakes. But carrying it, the body always shakes, and it is also very uncomfortable. Especially after getting off the car, I still have to walk some distance. When walking, it sometimes hits the carton. So when I walk, I try to hold it with one hand, but it still feels uncomfortable.
In addition to it, every day I have to carry its baby bottle, needle tube (one of each size, with a large pillow, used to suck the saline in the large bottle; the small needle tube injects it with milk powder), eye drops, cotton swabs, cotton cloth... because Sometimes it is not good to eat, so it can only be injected from the corner of the mouth with a small needle. About a month or so later, something happened at home, I must rush back. I don’t know what to do with it. I wanted to take it back to my hometown because I was worried that others could not take care of it. I took the train for more than 20 hours. I asked a staff member. There is a cat in the box. Can I bring it? She actually let me go through the security check. At that time, she wanted to not let me go through the security check and let a friend take care of it for a few days). In the car, I was afraid of being caught by the staff and drove me down, and I was afraid that it would bark and affect others' rest. It had to eat it once or twice every night, and called when I was hungry, and I got up to make milk powder for it, just like feeding a child...
When I got home, my loved ones were all there. Aunts and cousins when they saw it, they all said that I brought a cat back from a long distance, and wanted to raise a cat to help me find a better-looking one, not to mention that it was not good-looking, and it was blind and lame. After finishing the family affairs, I took it to the city where I worked. After that, its right front paw and right eye began to gradually become normal, but there was a depression in the center of the eyeball of the left eye, which was not going to be better. It also began to gain weight slowly, and the doctor said I took it very well. Although the eyes will not get better, the wound is gradually healed, at least not getting worse. Then I put it in the paper box, it was too big to turn around, I started to try to put it at home, I went home from get off work every day, when I walked to the door to get the key, I could hear its cry , I rubbed my shoes after opening the door. After that, I ran to play by myself, sprinting around the room, all kinds of spinning and jumping back and forth, when I read and write, it kept scratching my feet, sometimes when I put it on the table, it just Sapo shamelessly didn't let me read the book well.
During this period, it once had blood in the stool because it was pulled in the litter box. I didn't pay attention to it, but just shoveled it away. I had a high fever at night and it was so hot that I realized it was sick. Then I stayed up almost all night, afraid to wake up and find it dead. When I went to the hospital the next morning, the doctor said that he had bloodshot eyes in his urine. Later, he did a general examination, blood test, and urine test, but he didn't find out why. I only said that it might be a bacterial infection. I took 12 capsules and said to drink it with water. At this time, he ate very little cat food every day. After drinking the potion for about three or four days, he began to regain his normal food intake.
On another occasion, it did not have a bowel movement for a few days. At first, I thought it was because the milk powder was too thin and out of shape. The doctor said that it would take one or two times a day to be normal, and he gave it an enema. It's screaming can be heard downstairs, and it has been trembling all the time. Because of my ignorance, it has suffered too much.
About a month later, there is something at home, let me go back. This time I also decided to take it back and stay at home, because next time I go home, it will definitely be time for the Chinese New Year. At that time, the security check must be strict, and there is no way to bring it. It’s just that I didn’t expect that because it was from another station this time, the security officer detained it on the spot. I had no choice but to try the station I went back to last time. Fortunately, I went home smoothly in the end, and then I took it off. Leave it to my mother to raise it.
It's a bit farther, because seeing Fred with one eye reminds me of my cat and its sunken eyeball. When asked why Fred’s eyes hurt, Mary said that she was not there. I thought it was not by my side, what should I do if my mother can't take care of it. But then I think again, it’s at home, it can climb trees and roofs, it has two dogs to play with it, and it can run wild in the yard. If it’s by my side, he can only stay in the house all day and wait every day. I'm off work, which one is better for her?
Now it has become a fat man under the care of my mother. Sometimes running around in the yard, like crazy. It's just that its cry is always very low, sometimes it can't take anything off its paw, and it rarely screams. I remembered that when I went back from get off work, I found it hung on the bed sheet hanging down from the bed. I don’t know how long it has been hanging like that... The new puppy in the house bullied him, and he rarely barked. My mother always said it. Too stupid. Will not bark or scratch. Every time I think of it, I feel particularly uncomfortable. I think of it screaming lowly on the bus and bumping its head again and again...
My parents and relatives didn't understand why I took care of it this way, and some even said that I should not raise it at all. Only I know why I persisted. During that time, I was experiencing torment and struggle in my heart. Ever since I raised it, I looked at it every day, thinking that it was suffering from the pain, but still working hard to live, the doctor said it was too strong. I also know that, so I have to be stronger and take good care of it, because it is worth it.
I have no children yet, but I think raising children might be a little bit similar to this. I have always resented those adults who failed to take good care of their children. Since they gave birth to them, why can't I take good care of them? Are they not the cutest and most worthy of love in the world, worthy of being treated with all the good things?
I hope all children and small animals can be treated well, because they are trying to be strong, but they are too fragile.
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