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Soooooo. The past month and a half of my life has been off and on eaten up by a sweet kitten that I have been meaning to write about for ages. Alot of people ask about him, but more then that, I just LIKE to talk about him, so here we go finally.

I will WARN, this has some GRUESOME bits.

Pumpkin was born a little over two months ago, right around my return from Acen. Three little barn kitties and their decent mother, they had a nice safe little place behind a haystack. Pumpkin was mostly sleepy, relaxed, and chilled, a real little fluffball. His sister (dubbed Freya) was a little more outgoing, she'd toddle on out, loved to be pet.

When they were maybe three weeks old (having just been named the day before) I went out in the morning to let the horses out. I was absolutely mortified to find bits and pieces all over the place of the unnamed kitten. Freya toddled up completely fine, as if nothing had happened. I was relieved to see Pumpkin, only to realize when I picked him up that one eye was popped out of the socket, and blood kept bubbling out of his nose. He mewed at me like nothing at all was wrong, so off we went to the vet with me mortified and bawling.

With the use of a tiny bit of sedative (because he was such a little fighter) the vet got his eye back in and stitched up the eyelid. I was given antibiotics and a 60% chance his eye would stay in and that he'd survive. He slept alot the first day unsurprisingly, but by the next day he was amazingly active. I don't know if it was the constant attention, or the antibiotics but no longer was he a sleeping fluff. He ran, he played, enough so to be lovingly refered to as ' Punk-in' from time to time. His eye did end up healing alright as well. It looks worse in pictures than it is. Basically it healed with his eye rolled up a little, so you can see some of the white under the pupil. After a week and him ripping out his stitch I started to take him out a little each day to play with his mom and sister. I have seven cats already after all, so he was destined to go back outside.

He'd climb high up trees and jump out (with me holding my breath that his eye is going to pop out one of these times >_< ). He'd explore further than his sister, beat up on corn husks, beat up on his sister. He was happy and punkish and once he had moved back out whenever you went out to the barn and called his name he'd run out like a maniac ready to play. Ohhh and he LOVED to sit on shoulders.

Each night I'd close up the barn completely so nothing could get in. Of course within a few weeks the mother left (possibly out cruising, she's dissapeared for a month or more before, possibly eaten) and the kittens started finding any little hole in the barn so they could sneak out and play at night. One morning about a week and a half ago, I went out and could only find Freya . I was heartbroken. Pumpkin never didn't come to his name, so I knew something had to be wrong. I spent hours that day wandering around the yard calling out, checking every small little hiding spot I could. But nothing. It was super hot.. over 100 degree heat index, and it rained/stormed that night.

** SUPER GRUESOME WARNING **
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A little after noon (about 36 hours since he'd gone missing) I walked out to the barn again and see a tiny orange head peeking out of the barrel he used to play in. I was amazed, overjoyed. I pull him out, only to see two huge holes in his leg, a handful of other punctures, and squirming around eating at the dying muscle are baby maggots.

Off to the vet again, he looks him over, guesses a cat attacked him. I don't really think so however.. the smaller punctures look the exact size of large dog (German Shepard perhaps, like the damn neighbor's dog) teeth and he had to have been dragged pretty far away for me not to have found him. The vet said things looked good however, and that the maggots were actually good for him in a way, helping get rid of the dead muscle. So the next 3 or so days was a tiresome and nasty task of bathing and maggot pulling and very little sleep. It turns out he didn't have nearly as many as I thought, but everytime I saw them squirm.. ugggggh.
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** End SUPER GRUESOME **

Within four days everything was gone and the twice daily baths and antibiotics had his muscles looking pink and healthy again. Now in fact, only like 10 days later the skin has regrown atleast 50%, and I'm quite confident it'll be completely closed up within a week. Pumpkin himself, is happy and crazy like usual. Running around amazingly well on three legs (one back leg joint is still kind of sore and swollen), chasing balls and laser pointers, wrestling with hands, snuggling at night, absolutely trying to kill my boyfriend's laptop. Two near death experiences in only two months of life, he's certainly earned his way into being a house cat. And despite it all he's still certainly one of the sweetest, most playful and agreeable babies I've seen.

He hates baths (which he still gets pretty often to help keep the wounds wet and until I can find a flea product that's useable on babies 8 weeks or younger), but he loves the occassional bottle feed, and the special wet food he's been spoiled with while he's healing. He loves his light up ball, and cuddling with my boyfriend and ignoring me after baths because I'm "Such a big meanie".

I've never really understood the aggression to cats that many people have. It's strange really... People "don't like" dogs, but you rarely hear "I hate!" like you do with cats. Oh well, I have some of of the greatest and most affectionate cats, and Pumpkin gets to add to the list now.

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