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When I woke up today (Saturday), as the weekend had rolled around and Devon had a break from homework and we could finally do anniversary-celebratory-things, I checked my email to find a message from Dee that began, "So I don't want to alarm you, and so far she seems to be okay, but I had to take August in to the vet this morning." Cut for some discussion of pet health and digestive issues: ( Read more... ) The vet thinks this is probably something that resolve itself, although the battery of tests can only help.
Obviously, Devon drove me back up this afternoon. My being here isn't essential but it is productive, if only because August is a one-person cat; having me back and restoring her status quo may help normalize her diet, and it will be less stressful if I'm the one pilling her. When I got back I lay down and pulled her to my chest and she pressed me back into the world and purred with me until we were both calm.
It's all terrifying, especially after losing Mamakitty last year (her decline began with eating issues, and we've been hypersensitive to our cat's food intake since then) and with the recent unexpected death of Casey, which is in all ways entirely unrelated but still has me paranoid. (Further bad timing: I was going to stop by and see my family and our old dog Jamie this weekend, and tell her I loved her and not to die; I should email them and ask them to pass on my message in my stead.)
But terrifying mostly because August is my heart and life and soul, and her wellbeing is the only thing in this universe in which I am truly invested and for which I feel responsible. I'm thankful beyond words that Dee was there, to deal with the pet-sitter's nightmare and make all the right decisions, and know me and my daughtersistercat so intimately that she could do exactly what I would have done.
I am okay because I have to be, because my anxiety can only disrupt August and contribute to her health issues; and because I have her with me. This is the only realm of my life in which I can do this: experience stress without falling to pieces, because someone else depends on my being whole. My heart my life my soul; the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life.
Obviously, Devon drove me back up this afternoon. My being here isn't essential but it is productive, if only because August is a one-person cat; having me back and restoring her status quo may help normalize her diet, and it will be less stressful if I'm the one pilling her. When I got back I lay down and pulled her to my chest and she pressed me back into the world and purred with me until we were both calm.
It's all terrifying, especially after losing Mamakitty last year (her decline began with eating issues, and we've been hypersensitive to our cat's food intake since then) and with the recent unexpected death of Casey, which is in all ways entirely unrelated but still has me paranoid. (Further bad timing: I was going to stop by and see my family and our old dog Jamie this weekend, and tell her I loved her and not to die; I should email them and ask them to pass on my message in my stead.)
But terrifying mostly because August is my heart and life and soul, and her wellbeing is the only thing in this universe in which I am truly invested and for which I feel responsible. I'm thankful beyond words that Dee was there, to deal with the pet-sitter's nightmare and make all the right decisions, and know me and my daughtersistercat so intimately that she could do exactly what I would have done.
I am okay because I have to be, because my anxiety can only disrupt August and contribute to her health issues; and because I have her with me. This is the only realm of my life in which I can do this: experience stress without falling to pieces, because someone else depends on my being whole. My heart my life my soul; the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life.
