When I first visited Angel, she was one week old. The family who had the litter couldn't afford her care. If I didn't take her, they couldn't keep her. I already knew the answer.
At two months old she came home, small and breathless. The scan that followed confirmed four simultaneous heart conditions. One of them, paradoxically, the thing keeping her alive. The narrowed valve was doing just enough to hold the balance. Treating it could have made everything worse. Surgical correction didn't exist in the UK or Europe.
The cardiologist gave us a prognosis: two weeks, two months, or two years. She's still here, almost seven years later.
Daily medication, weekly breathing checks at home, quarterly blood tests, annual cardiology scans. That's the routine that kept her here.
