Clementines rescue wasn't supposed to look like this.
Clemmy is the last cat from a feral colony I’ve spent the past year working to trap and adopt out to loving homes. I had planned to catch him this week, he was the final one. But then, a few days ago, he disappeared. I thought I’d lost him.
Until I opened my door to find him curled up in my garage, bleeding from both eyes, his mouth hanging open covered in a dark black substance, and too weak to move. I didn’t see how he got there. But somehow, he dragged his broken body to the only place he must’ve hoped would be safe. He had previously never allowed me to come close to him, but this time he wanted me to come to him.
I rushed him to South Austin Cat Hospital, where my worst fears were confirmed: Clem had likely been hit by a car and survived 2–3 days alone in excruciating pain. The injuries were devastating.
Clemmys injuries include:
- Multiple jaw fractures, including one that went through the roof of his mouth, merging his oral and nasal cavities
- A degloved chin
- Possible internal injury
- Two fractured canine teeth
- Severe malnutrition and dehydration
When I brought him to SACH, none of us expected him to make it through the night. We talked about how humans endure traumatic injuries knowing that medical care will help us and that there’s a brighter future waiting. But cats don't view it that way. They live in the now. And Clemenitine, a feral cat who had never been indoors and hadn't even warmed up to me yet prior to this day, was suddenly surrounded by medical teams, needing to be handled, and experiencing pain we can’t fully fathom.
So we made a plan: we’d take Clemmy home for the night and let him show us what he wanted. If he was ready to go, we would not let his final moments be spent in fear. We would not attempt to force him to endure months of medical care if he didn't want it. But Clemmy showed us something else.
He purred. He nuzzled into my arms, and weaved between my legs. He head butted. He explored his new space with curiosity and excitement, jumping into cabinets, finding soft beds, and becoming absolutely enamored with his own reflection in the mirror.
He didn’t want to give up.
He wanted to fight to live.
And now I want to fight with him. I just can’t do it alone.
The plan. He'll need:
- A feeding tube placed immediately
- Hospital stay with IV fluids, nutrition, and stabilization before surgery
- Major jaw reconstruction surgery to fix the multiple fractures as well as repair of his soft palate.
- Dental surgery to extract the broken canines
- Ongoing recovery care, pain management, and eventually a routine neuter, vaccinations, and preventatives
I’ve been told to anticipate 6,500 - $7,000 in total costs, but that number could change depending on what Clemmy needs in the coming days. Even with the generous help and deep discounts South Austin Cat Hospital has offered me, the costs are too much for me alone as a single person, just trying to save as many animals as I possibly can. I will put in the time, the care, the travel, and the love for Clemmy...I just am out of funds.
Clemmy is likely only 1–2 years old. He has his whole life ahead of him. A life he clearly wants, full of love, food, naps, and windows to stare out of.
If you can help, any amount truly makes a difference. If you can’t donate, please share his story. Clemmy is fighting for a future. Let’s show him he was right to believe in one.
With all my heart,
Kallen
Organizer
