Pebbles, the blind one

WARNING!!!  This blog post contains photographs of a rescue kitten that had a very serious eye infection.  Some of the pictures may be disturbing to readers.  Reader discression is advised.  I try not to play favorites with these animals, but I couldn't avoid developing a close bond with Pebbles, our third cat.  This is a recent picture of him.

Pebbles will be two this year, and I estimate that he was born on May 15th.  Notice that his left eye is gray, and his right eye is nonexistent.  Pebbles was born to a semi-feral mother who lived outdoors on the south side of Malden.  He developed an eye infection and was abandoned by his mother by the age of three weeks.  He likely would have died if my sister hadn't driven by the yard where he lived.  She nipped out of the car, scooped the kitten up amid her then-boyfriend's protests, and brought him home.  He was the most pathetic excuse for a kitten I'd ever seen; his paws were dirty, his coat was full of burrs and fleas, and his eyes were swollen and full of goo.  Boyfriend absolutely refused to hold him, so he rode to the vet on my lap.  It was during this ride that he earned the name "Pebbles;" Boyfriend insisted that his eyes looked like little chunks of gravel.  I'll let you be the judge of that (the next picture is slightly graphic).

I know he looks bad in that picture, but he was actually thriving by then and on the road to recovery.  My sister did the bulk of his caretaking during the first week (Mama and I helped).  She had to feed him with a bottle, make sure he drank water, burp him, and "poop" him, meaning she had to help him go potty.  We also had to give him medicine, both orally and topically on the eyes.  As the eyes healed they began to itch, and we had to customize an Elizabethan collar to keep him from scratching.  His feedings had to be done every four hours, meaning we couldn't leave him alone.  This culminated in us dragging him to Jonesboro, Arkansas one day in a blue Rubbermaid bin.  It was an unorthodox way to rear a kitten, but we got it done.

After a week my sister had to leave for a summer college class, and I took on the caretaking duties myself.  I learned to hold Pebbles over my heart when he got fussy, and he spent most of the summer on my chest, through the Olympics, through the Niagara Falls wire walk, through the thunderstorms that came in August.  In time he outgrew his blue plastic bin and ended up in a wire cage.  He hated it, especially when it was bedtime!

Whether he hated it or not, that cage may have been the best thing we did for Pebbles, as it provided something for him to climb.  He built up his strength enough to climb to the top of the cage and hang upside down.  One night he was so angry that I'd put him to bed that he threw a tantrum.  That's right, a tantrum!  He hung from the top of the cage and kicked the bars with his hind legs, yowling the whole time.  It was hilarious.  Slowly we began introducing him to the rest of the house, and the cage was banished to a corner of the room.  

Combating the eye infection proved to be VERY tricky.  There were periods where it looked like we'd gotten rid of it, and then it would flare up again and we'd be back to draining fluid from Pebbles's eyelids and applying topical meds.  In between flares he looked like a perfectly normal cat, albeit with scarred eyes.  Here's what he looked like at eleven months.

Not too long after that Pebbles had another flare.  His right eye deflated and sunk into the eye socket.  We asked the vet if it should be removed, but he says it can be left alone unless it starts causing discomfort.  He also warned us that Pebbles's other eye was unlikely to recover, and he might see some shadows but not much else.

Being blind hasn't stopped Pebbles though.  He knows the layout of the house, the locations of the food and water dishes, and the location of the litter boxes.  He knows which room belongs to which person, and he cries if I don't let him into mine.  Regarding personality, Pebbles is something of a grouch.  He doesn't have much to do with my mother or sister, but likes the vet, my idiot uncle, and strangers.  He's very playful and likes to spar with the other cats.  Chewbacca hates his guts, but the rest of the animals put up with him.  In addition to play fighting with the other cats, Pebbles loves to sleep...in very weird positions!

 He loves sunbeams, and his cardboard box too!

And he likes my bed.

I didn't know I had it in me to take care of a special needs cat, but Pebbles has been nothing but a pleasure to have around.  He's my pride and joy!