My wife 'fosters' for the Humane Society which is where she works. She has fostered close to 400 cats (most of them kittens) in the last seven years. The house is a shambles and we can't have people over anymore.
The problem with 'fostering' pets is that a certain percentage eventually present themselves as being unadoptable. They may be incontinent (we have one that just lets loose wherever he is), They may have goo running out of their eyes (we have two of them). They may be obese (we have one of them) or nasty (we have one of them). They may throw up all the time (we have one of them). So one way or the other we got stuck with eight grown up cats. They grew up that is, from kittens.
She keeps taking in kittens, I can't stop her. The latest crop is a doozy. One was found with blood coming out of his nose and ears, just like Superman these days when he gets punched hard. The kitten didn't want to eat and kept biting us. He wobbled when he walked. The vet said he had severe brain damage and convinced us to put him down.
Another kitten we had at the same time was perfectly fine cream colored kitten, real lovable, easy to adopt. But we had to put him in a cage to keep him isolated from three other kittens we had at the same time that were ill. The kitten in the cage got so lonely and desperate that he forced himself out of the cage, fatally injuring himself in the process. My wife found him under the couch and picked him up. He wimpered twice and died in her hand.
That cheered things up considerably.
Meanwhile back to the three sick kittens we had to quarantine the cream-colored one from. They were picked up along with their mother when they were seven days old. The mother was feral so they decided to put her down. They could have waited for the kittens to be weaned to put her down but they decided to put her down. Then they dumped the seven day old kittens on my wife. She valiantly got them to drink fake kitten formula (KMR) and they began to grow. It looked like they were out of the woods but then they came down with an upper respiratory disease that every kitten catches if they spend a day at the shelter.
My wife has valiantly fought the disease and two of the three kittens recovered. But the third is wheezing and is slowly succumbing, it's only a matter of time.
I told my wife the kitten needed antibiotics nebulized into it's lungs two days ago, we've been through this before. But my wife hates the only vet in town that has a nebulizer, "He's a fraud!" she says. When my wife told me the kitten was dying I reminded her about the nebulizer and at first she got mad at me, "You're saying I killed the kitten! After all I've done!".
But she calmed down and started putting on her thinking cap, "I think I know another place open 24 hrs. a day that has a nebulizer!"
But like it's too late. The kitten has progressed too far for the nebulizer to be effective. The kitten's going to die.