About 7 months ago I was lucky enough to find baby Omar. A three week old kitten with a severe upper respiratory infection. He was on the brink of death and not eating. I spent the first night with him calling every vet I could in the Cincinnati area, attempting to find any help I could get to save his life.
My first night with Omar
By morning I finally took my search to the road with Omar asleep on my chest. Thinking that maybe if a Vet could just see how bad his condition was he would find some way to let me pay in monthly increments. I finally found Noah’s Ark animal clinic, where they got me in contact with a cat rescue who would take him off my hands.
He needed hydration and severe antibiotics. His eyes were so swollen that he couldn’t open them and they were crusted shut. After meeting a woman from the rescue she assured me he would be in good care and that she will call me with updates. I left thinking his hard journey was over and he could finally find his fur-ever home.
Little Omar Sleeping at the Vet
But I got a phone call two hour later. The rescue told me Omar had FIV (Feline Immunodeficiency Virus) and she could not take him because he could possibly infect the other cats she has rescued. She asked me to take him back after his treatment if I did not, than the most likely outcome would for them to put him down.
So that night I picked him back up. I had to give him anti-bionics every 4 hours, eye drops every 11 hours, and feed him every 3 with a mixture of cat milk and a high protein soft food.
The little bed I made him that he wouldn’t sleep in.
For the next 3 weeks I raised him from near death. Never before have I loved such a pain in my ass. He had to sleep next to my head every night, cried when I left the room or when he couldn’t hear me.
I used a unity scarf to carry him around so I could have free hands.
Finally after about 4 weeks he opened his eyes for the first time and the swelling when down on his eyes. He was playing like a kitten and eating without me forcing him.
Soon he had enough energy to start getting into trouble. Jumping on the counter, messing with the dog, and attacking feet. My mom finally told me I wasn’t allowed to find him another family because he was part of our family.
Omarian Oliver Taylor
And today he is 7 months old. My big boy. I am one proud cat mama.
Omar thinks he is people. (5m)
My 7 month old baby.
Thanks for celebrating Omar’s Success Story with me!