I know I haven't been around much the past several days. So much for my 30 posts in 30 days. Ah well.
Unfortunately, what brings me back to blogging today is not to tell you about how I spent my weekend at a five-star hotel and thermal spa (a birthday present from Jeff), or share with you how I learned how to make the most amazing roasted veggies from our Couchsurfers last night, or how I finally managed to make the best brownie-cheesecake I've ever had in my life, all of which, I promise, I will get around to telling you about.
But right now there is something else weighing heavily on my mind.
Right now my heart is very heavy and sad.
Peaches, the little kitten that we rescued from the street, rehabilitated in our bathroom and found a loving home with our new friend Lloyd, died from "complications" from a series of vaccinations she received over the weekend.
I don't know how it happened. I don't understand any of it. I have never heard of kittens dying from vaccinations. I mean, aren't vaccinations supposed to SAVE a kitten's life, prevent her from dying?
I haven't talked to Peaches' vet yet, but when I do, ooh you better believe he's getting a piece of my mind. In English, of course, because I am not fluent enough in Turkish yet to stream off the obscenities that I think are in order here.
From what I can tell on the internet, kittens can die from complications from vaccinations, but it appears to be rare, and when it does happen, two causes are most likely: 1) the kitten had a severe allergic reaction to something, or 2) the vet gave the kitten too many vaccinations at once or too much of a single vaccination.
I would like to believe that Peaches' death is not the vet's fault, but....but...this is Turkey, and -- I'm just going to say it -- the level of veterinary medical care in this country stinks. It is no where near as developed as vet science in Western countries, and I secretly harbor a wee bit of ill will towards various vets, some of whom are very good friends and people, for things that I think would have been handled differently in the US.
To have spent all that time and energy and love and affection and attention and, yes, money, on Peaches, to have saved her from a life of misery on the street, to have nursed her back to health and given her a wonderful home, to have played with her and loved her and cuddled her, to have fallen completely in love with her, and now this.
Something we thought would be good for her, would make her healthy, would make her strong, would make her live to 17, has killed her. I just can't believe it. I really can't wrap my head around this.
