A Warrior Named Ani
In early July, my friend Emily and I traveled to Guatemala for a much needed vacation. While there, we found a kitten at a farm-to-table restaurant. She was white with gray/brown markings, unusually slender, and was incredibly friendly. When I pulled her onto my lap, I could feel her entire rib cage, and her eyes were slightly sunken in. She ate over half my omelette. The owner of the farm, Karin, asked if I was interested in taking the kitten with me, but I explained we were just visitors and didn’t live there.
Two days later, after a lot of discussion (and pros/cons lists), we decided to take Karin up on her offer. We would bring the kitten with us to New York and find her a home. The kitten needed a name for the veterinarian documents required for travel. We named her Ani after the place we found her: Antigua, Guatemala.
When the vet weighed Ani, she was dramatically underweight which wasn’t a surprise to us. However, when they checked Ani’s teeth, they realized that she was not a kitten. Despite her size, Ani was 5–7 years old and severely, life-threateningly malnourished. As a result, her gums showed signs of severe anemia and if Ani had any chance of survival, she needed blood transfusions and consistent nutrition immediately. Even under the best conditions, chances were slim she would live. That was not the worst of the news.
Ani’s blood work showed a positive pregnancy result. The vet performed an ultrasound and saw a fetus in Ani’s belly; she was full term. Her body was so famished, it hadn’t made any breast milk during her pregnancy. This meant the kitten had no shot of survival even if Ani managed to survive the birth. When Emily asked if we could still transport her to New York for urgent medical care, our hopes were shattered. Ani was too sick and had to stay in Guatemala. Emily returned Ani to the farm, let Karin know what had happened, and we packed for our flight the next day.
When we boarded the plane for New York, I started to cry. We were leaving Ani to die a very painful isolating death, and we both were devastated. I thought about Karin, the owner of the farm who suggested I adopt the cat. A desperate effort to help Ani started forming in my brain, and I texted Karin. By the time we had arrived in New York, the three of us had come up with a plan.
Emily and I would send Karin money for food and medical care, and Karin would do her best to keep Ani alive until she was stable enough to travel. I would be in regular contact with Karin for updates. We found an NGO that would step in to help if Ani started giving birth. Finally, if Ani made it through the birth and grew stable, I would fly to Guatemala and bring her to the US.
Over the next two weeks we received daily pictures of Ani, and Karin let us know she was slowly gaining weight. Then, on July 21st, a customer at the farm sat down and found a baby kitten on his bench. Ani had given birth.
The farm made Ani an outdoor shelter to protect her from the elements, and kept tabs on her behavior and food intake. Karin let us know that, against all odds, the kitten was most likely going to survive thanks to the care of the farm and the NGO. Nothing was guaranteed, but Ani was healing and doing okay. I let it sink in that Ani might become healthy enough to fly.
After some time, Karin found a family to adopt the kitten and Ani had her spay surgery. When Karin sent us a picture of Ani recovering at an NGO employee’s house, it was official. She had made it through the one last hurdle she needed to travel.
Finally, it was time for Ani to come home.
