He did great at our house for the first two days, and then he quit eating. I tried switching him to homemade kitten formula, but he didn't like that either, and threw up everything I could get in him. Thursday night I took him to the emergency vet, where they gave him subcutaneous fluids (he was dehydrated). He spent all day Friday, and the first few hours of Saturday at the vet. We tried various medicines, subcutaneous fluids, tube feeding, heat lamps, but all to no avail.
Yesterday at 11:30, the vet was going over other things we could try (an IV port where I could continue to administer fluids over the weekend, barium to soak up any toxins, a new antibiotic). I looked at little Kringle, limp in one of the vet tech's hands, and asked what kind of a chance he had. "I have seen kittens pull out of something like this," Dr. Kristen said, but I could tell by the tone of her voice that this was a long-shot. In just a few hours on Saturday, Kringle had gone from running and climbing to a wisp of a kitten, barely hanging on. I said that I thought we had done our best, but that if two days at the vet couldn't get him on the mend, he was suffering, and not likely to survive. I did not want him to be in any more pain, and gave them the go ahead to put him to sleep.
His little veins were so small, their smallest needle could not fit inside (he only weighed 12 ounces.) They ended up having to directly inject his tiny heart, but the end was quick. Kringle will be spending his first Christmas in kitten heaven, along with his brother (who died at the shelter on Friday with similar symptoms.) His other two litter mates are becoming sick as well and may not have much time. But they were all surrounded by love and affection for one week of their short lives.
Little furry friends can make such a difference in someone's day. Please support your local shelter and remember to have your pets spayed and neutered.