Goodbye little Grogu

Grogu has decided that he has had enough fun with his little brothers and mother this month and wants to leave.

I write this post because breeders often post only the good times of breeding. Everyone has the right to do as they please, but breeding is about perpetuating life, and if there is life, there is also death. Talking about it would help a lot, since it is not all smiling unicorns. As you know Grogu was born tiny, 55 grams, after suffering as he was left in the canal (he was the first to be born). When he came out I thought he was stillborn. Instead this little thing was breathing. I cleaned his airway, dried him, put him on the warm mat, severed the cord and gave him to Marianne, who immediately began to lick him. The other two are born (Jabba second born with a couple of pushes, Padme with one push) and then I identify them and weigh them. When I read 55 I am surprised and think he just won't make it. Grogu, however, starts to fight and tries to stick. He doesn't make it, but I see that he struggles. So I decide to fight with him: for ten days I feed him with a tube, hoping he will put on weight and attach. And so it happens: little Grogu already from the second day, strong from the milk I give him, attaches and a lot, he grows in weight (not as much as his brothers, but he grows). He is active and lively, a nice guy who fights for the nipple and always has the worst of it with his brothers. Until Saturday. At Saturday's weigh-in I notice that he had lost three grams ( that can be okay), but I immediately put my antennae back up. From there it was all downhill. Grogu decided not to latch on anymore. Premature or underweight births have chances to survive (and it happens) but according to the scientific literature I consulted they die in the first three days or at weaning age, 4-5 weeks, like Grogu. Obviously it varies from breed to breed but for a Siamese/Eastern 60-65 grams would be the minimum. Nothing is helping with the tube, the syringe, the IVs I've been giving and everything else I'll spare you. Grogu has been tired since yesterday, breathing very little and always sleeping. If I bring him close to Mama he lowers his head and won't know about the nipple. He has decided precisely that he wants to say goodbye to us. I am struggling to the end, but when he is ready I will let him go. Last night (in which I slept only two hours) I put him under the covers and held him: let him know how much I love him and that everything is okay. I am devastated, but I decided to fight, for Marianne, for the little brothers and for the whole gang. And because, in spite of everything, I love to breed. I love cats and I love Siamese too much to give up, but today is hard. I would love to tell you tomorrow that Grogu played us and that it was all a sham, but the way he is I see it very, very hard.

The day after writing this text Grogu flew away. Grogu, my little, little, sweet little Siamese boy, daddy's kitty. My Grogu. I will love you forever.

Vole vole petite aile Ma douce, mon hirondelle Quitte ton corps et nous laisse Qu'enfin ta souffrance cesse Va rejoindre l'autre rive Celle des fleurs et des rires Vole, vole, mon amour Vole à ton dernier voyage