Tuesday, August 10, 2010
My Little BudBud
I know she is letting us gradually get used to her not being here. She is spending all her time outside, under the walkway, hidden away, coming out only to eat - when I make her. I have to tell her I love her through the cracks of the wooden slats and tears. She barely drinks all the milk that contains her hyperthyroid medicine. I have to make her come in at night, as I am afraid of something getting her, and her unable to defend herself or escape. Christopher declares, "Oh, I haven't seen her in so long!" He lays on the floor, and she still curls up next to him. She is wanting him to forget about her, but she still can't resist the heat of his body. I just hope she is not in pain. Her breathing is extremely labored now. I know I will find her motionless at some point soon. I cry every day for the cat she was. Oh, just to see her run to her food bowl one more time, to feel her claw at my leg when I didn't get her food fast enough. To see her destroy one of Christopher's lego sets in a mad fury would be wonderful. To see her play with her Zhu Zhu pet.
But she is staying away. Her heart can't take the sound and activity. She has to keep quiet and calm, and concentrate on breathing. And in the mean time, she is teaching us to live without her.