The last couple of months have seen some sucky decision making on my part. But Feb 28th was definitely the nadir.
At least I sincerely hope it was.
Here's to March being a new month and I will see my decision making skills rise phoenix like, out of the ashes of previously poor decision making.
Remember how I blithely talked about if I was going to be community minded it would involve cute and fluffy things? Because at heart I am supremely shallow.
Well our most recent foster placement was a mother and her two kitties. All sweet and furry thus far.
Except the mother got cat flu which she promptly passed on to her fur babies.
There was one white one and one black one.
We spent the weekend shovelling antibiotics and fluids down the throat of the black one and she started to turn the corner on Sunday.
Sadly her little white sister became ill on Saturday. By Monday it was clear to me that even without a degree in vet science and with only rudimentary skills in kitten care that she was very ill.
So Mr Small and I trundled back down the to Cat Haven to consult with the vet.
The vet was lovely and kind, but we reached the same painfully sad conclusion. Little kitten had no reserves to fight the pneumonia and she was struggling to breathe.
The vet gently took her from my hands, while Mr Small provided some distraction by choosing the same moment to fling himself round my ankles in a rugby tackle. (Thank heavens for small boys!)
I couldn't look as she took her next door into the theatre.
Instead I sobbed behind my dark sunglasses while Mr Small helped me carry the remaining kitten back to reception.
The kind staff there passed me tissues as I pulled myself together and stopped Mr Small from systematically disembowelling various cat toys.
Decisions like this one are very tough.
They are a reminder that right decisions are often very painful.
I never envisaged this as being one of the elements of foster caring.
And I know for the short time she was with us, she was loved and cared for.
It still sucks though.