I had every intention of getting to bed early tonight as I have an early meeting tomorrow, but the Universe, as usual, had other ideas! 

My oldest cat, Patches, was showing me that she wasn’t feeling well as only cats can do, so I took her to the vet yesterday along with Loki who was due for a recheck after her urinary tract infection (or UTI as the pros call it).  After waiting all day to hear from the vet, I called to get the results of Patches’ tests, but my doctor was tied up.  I called back after a bit when nobody got back to me, and was given to a very chatty doctor who went on and on in very technical terms, not even letting me get a word in edgewise!  I finally got him to at least tell me what they recommended for my old girl.  And so the fun began.

Patches had to be admitted to the hospital for a couple of days of aggressive treatment of her own UTI which was combined with her kidneys starting to fail was not a good thing.  It is entirely possible that the UTI is causing the kidneys to be overworked and start to shut down, but I take no chances with my furry kids, especially after Loki’s near death experience! 

Patches is not known for her high tolerance for being put into carriers or poked and prodded so her extremely docile behaviour yesterday and relatively calm demeanor when Heather put her in the carrier were pretty good signs that she was feeling like hell and appreciated the fact that we were doing something about it.  Although she won’t be any too thrilled by the needles and meds, she may actually enjoy having a little break from her two younger brothers and Loki.  But she’s a tough old bird, and with the noticeable improvement from only one shot of antibiotics, I have no doubt that my sweet girl will make a full recovery and be back training Dylan and Toby in a few days.  (they’re very slow learners!)

Normally, when one of my kids is sick, I am very stressed and worried, but this time, I know she’s being well taken care of and that, though I might have waited a couple of days longer than I should have to get her checked out, I did heed the signs she was giving me that she was feeling crummy, and made sure she wasn’t made to suffer too long.  She’s a tough, old bird who’s been in the family since Heather was a child, and has seen her share of family members come and go.

Her toughest loss, though, was when I lost Rascal, who had mothered her since we brought her home from the Camarillo shelter when she was a very shy 6 month old.  Anyone who believes that animals do not grieve would have been convinced by Patches’ behavior when Rascal died.  She moped around, started hiding in the closet or under the bed most of the time, and only came out at night to eat.

These days, with the help of my bratty boys, she not only comes out during the day, but she demands her share of attention, and has gotten very spoiled by her share of the morning wet food which, most of the time, must be delivered to her in my bedroom because Her Majesty doesn’t deign to dine with the peasantry.    She loves coming into my office when I’m at my desk and bonking her head against my legs until I stop what I’m doing and give her my full attention.

When I bring her food in the morning, she does a little dance for me, and gives me her famous silent meow.  For some reason, her voice is very tiny, so when she opens her mouth to meow, it comes out either as a tiny squeak or a breathy almost-sound.

So my evening involved participating in a  con call for my class, then running back to the vet to have her admitted.  That didn’t relieve me of the chores that awaited me at home, however. One of the downsides of living alone is that you don’t have anyone there to pick up the slack when you’re swamped or sick.  I have yet to find a way to make the sandboxes scoop and empty themselves, the trash, get itself into the barrel and to the curb, the floors to self-vacuum or the dishes to miraculously get rinsed, into the dishwasher and back to their assigned places in the cupboards!

But everything is done, including filling the cat feeder so Dylan doesn’t become distressed at the thought that he might starve by morning, chasing Munchkin who took full advantage of my leaving the door open too long, and last, but not least, setting up the coffee pot for the morning!

I guess, when push comes to shove, I can do it all myself, so I have to ask myself, “is being able to share the chores worth giving up some of my independence?

Definitely a thought worth pondering.

My gratitudes tonight are:
1. I am grateful that my sweet girl is being well taken care of by a vet who has staff there for her all night long.
2. I am grateful that I am able to keep everything going, even when I’m thrown a curveball.
3. I am grateful for down time that I take between tasks so that my battery doesn’t run low.
4. I am grateful for the things I’m learning which allow me to keep moving forward with a lot less stress on myself.
5. I am grateful for all of the animal people I know who totally understand how it feels when one of your furry kids is sick.

Love and light.

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