Tuesday, January 27, 2009

...and Roo goes to the Vet

The nose knows, I thought to myself this morning as I carried Pebbles up the hall to the kitchen. We both blinked in the light, and I put the kettle on for my coffee. And so does the heart.

There it was, right by the back door. Pee, again. I cleaned it up with a rag, some bleach cleaner and a heavy heart.

Before I left the house, I kneeled beside a cardboard box tucked beneath an end table. Inside it, curled up on a green towel, my sixteen-year-old cat watched me with sunken but adoring eyes. She's lost a lot of weight just lately, her legs and paws are painfully bony, and her sides heave with the force of her purring.

"I love you, Roo."

Soon, I will have a call from my husband with The News. I'm hoping for a bladder infection. Have you ever hoped for one of those? Me, neither.

In the meantime, in that place deep in my chest where Truth lives, I think I know otherwise.

I'm afraid it may be Time.


NBB said...

Hey Cindy,

you have my deepest sympathies. I know how that feels.



Cindy said...

Thank you, Nina.

I would never want to be without animals, but it's so hard when they go.

Jenny said...

My 17-year-old calico, Wiskers, passed away almost 2 years ago. I think she lived just long enough to meet my son, because I took him down to my parents' house for Easter and took pictures with her (she still lived with them) and it wasn't a month later that she took her bony, weakening body outside on a warm spring day, lay down in the sun, and never got up again.

I still tear up thinking about her (like now). My sympathy when the Time comes for your Roo.

Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry to hear that *hugs* When they go it's hard. (Been there just a couple of weeks ago, unfortunately.) But then again, I couldn't live without all the fun they bring, so that's the price we have to pay for the joys of their company while they last.