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All the windows in the apartment are open, the lights have all been turned off.
I can feel the air trickling through the screens every now and again, briefly. And whenever the wind blows, there's a rustle behind it all. Leaves? I don't know. But, to me that is the precise sound of Autumn.
This time of the year has an uncanny hold on me. I am at my happiest and my most melancholy, a contradiction painted in muted jewel tones. Sometimes, I don't understand how my head works.
Today has been a drifting under the water sort of day. I haven't slept in about 36 hours, except for a brief Benadryl powered nap midday. Strange shapes flicker across my eyes, I blink them away.
This evening, at the vet's office, I bent down and whispered to Edgar in his travel cage that I would be back soon and that he was to behave himself. He nuzzled my outstretched fingers, an action wholly unlike his usual bouyant self. And my heart twisted painfully in my chest.
I walked out of the office, down a stone path to my car. Dropping my bag to the ground, I leaned against the car and cried. The doctor says he's not entirely sure what is wrong, but he thinks it's most possibly an obstruction in the intestines. He's not totally ruling out my ECE idea, but before we embark down that road, he wants to do some X-rays and such like to see if anything is clogging up the works.
It's going to be disgustingly expensive for all of this. Seventy-three dollars a day, so far, for everything involved and not including the x-rays. I told him, with the strongest voice I could muster, that as long as I could install some form of payment plan with the practice, I didn't care what the cost was.
And I don't. Despite the fact that I am unemployed and barely covering my expenses (who am I kidding, I'm not covering my expenses at all), there are some things which need to be taken care of properly, with no corners cut. This is one of those things.
It's close to the same time of the year as last when I lost my ruby eyed lady, Midnight. The thought of her death still hurts me. I had raised her from a bare handful of snow white fur to the lithe and graceful streak she was, even up until the day she died. Losing her was...bad.
Earlier this evening, after the vet's office, I was sitting in the overstuffed chair and pretending to knit the grey scarf I promised to my brother for when snowboarding season comes around again. Mostly what I was actually doing was staring blankly at the ball of yarn and clicking the metal needles together, just to hear the slight sound they make. Thinking about what Edgar must be feeling, as he curled alone in a cage that wasn't his.
I'm a sap, I know this. But, it hurts. It hurt over the past few days when I had to force feed him and slide fluids down his throat. A few times, I came close to losing my temper whenever he struggled too violently. And I continually had to remind myself of the pain he was actually in, the pain that was causing him to squirm in my hands and spit food out at me. That then inspired a round of heavy guilt that would make any Catholic grandmother proud.
please please please let him be okay.
I can feel the air trickling through the screens every now and again, briefly. And whenever the wind blows, there's a rustle behind it all. Leaves? I don't know. But, to me that is the precise sound of Autumn.
This time of the year has an uncanny hold on me. I am at my happiest and my most melancholy, a contradiction painted in muted jewel tones. Sometimes, I don't understand how my head works.
Today has been a drifting under the water sort of day. I haven't slept in about 36 hours, except for a brief Benadryl powered nap midday. Strange shapes flicker across my eyes, I blink them away.
This evening, at the vet's office, I bent down and whispered to Edgar in his travel cage that I would be back soon and that he was to behave himself. He nuzzled my outstretched fingers, an action wholly unlike his usual bouyant self. And my heart twisted painfully in my chest.
I walked out of the office, down a stone path to my car. Dropping my bag to the ground, I leaned against the car and cried. The doctor says he's not entirely sure what is wrong, but he thinks it's most possibly an obstruction in the intestines. He's not totally ruling out my ECE idea, but before we embark down that road, he wants to do some X-rays and such like to see if anything is clogging up the works.
It's going to be disgustingly expensive for all of this. Seventy-three dollars a day, so far, for everything involved and not including the x-rays. I told him, with the strongest voice I could muster, that as long as I could install some form of payment plan with the practice, I didn't care what the cost was.
And I don't. Despite the fact that I am unemployed and barely covering my expenses (who am I kidding, I'm not covering my expenses at all), there are some things which need to be taken care of properly, with no corners cut. This is one of those things.
It's close to the same time of the year as last when I lost my ruby eyed lady, Midnight. The thought of her death still hurts me. I had raised her from a bare handful of snow white fur to the lithe and graceful streak she was, even up until the day she died. Losing her was...bad.
Earlier this evening, after the vet's office, I was sitting in the overstuffed chair and pretending to knit the grey scarf I promised to my brother for when snowboarding season comes around again. Mostly what I was actually doing was staring blankly at the ball of yarn and clicking the metal needles together, just to hear the slight sound they make. Thinking about what Edgar must be feeling, as he curled alone in a cage that wasn't his.
I'm a sap, I know this. But, it hurts. It hurt over the past few days when I had to force feed him and slide fluids down his throat. A few times, I came close to losing my temper whenever he struggled too violently. And I continually had to remind myself of the pain he was actually in, the pain that was causing him to squirm in my hands and spit food out at me. That then inspired a round of heavy guilt that would make any Catholic grandmother proud.
please please please let him be okay.
