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Hiss
As I type this, Hissy is on her way to the vet.
She's stopped eating. And drinking. She doesn't come when she's called.
Yes, Hissy always reported immediately when called. She's always been a...confused dog in a cat's body.
So she's seeing a doctor. We don't fuck around with medical stuff here. We know better. We learned it in the worst ways.
I should be with her, but it wasn't an option even mentioned. My own medical condition is currently...very grim, and I think the SU made the unilateral decision to worry sick about one person. Not two.
But I feel horrible. Not just because of my medical situ, natch. Not just because I could lose Phoenix and Hissyfit, together. The utter agony of the prospect...but you can't control fate. The same thing that brought them to me was always going to take them away. But you always think it will be later, so later...so late as to be never. You have to, or you'd refuse to connect to anyone.
And that, that will bring you more pain than it saves...
I feel so bad because I'm not there. And she's seeing the vet, not the hospital. You need a referral to get access to the good doctors. She doesn't get to coast in because her brother has one. But I feel the most horror because she left here in a cat carrier.
Hissy is terrified of leaving the house. She will be screaming herself hoarse in her terror, the whole time she is out.
The way she is supposed to go to the vet's is: inside a bag.
More specifically, inside my black pleather backpack. I wear it in reverse, and buckle it in with me. I keep the bag closed, except for having enough room for me to slip one hand in, to keep pressed against her, as I talk to her, constantly, trying to remind her that at least she's not alone, that she is loved.
There's no frantic screaming this way. Though, of course, we're both still scared.
But I'm not there.
I know this was an obvious logical decision for the SU. But I know that, right now, she's frantic with terror. And it feels like my stomach is being cut out with broken glass.
With sick, and with shame...
She's stopped eating. And drinking. She doesn't come when she's called.
Yes, Hissy always reported immediately when called. She's always been a...confused dog in a cat's body.
So she's seeing a doctor. We don't fuck around with medical stuff here. We know better. We learned it in the worst ways.
I should be with her, but it wasn't an option even mentioned. My own medical condition is currently...very grim, and I think the SU made the unilateral decision to worry sick about one person. Not two.
But I feel horrible. Not just because of my medical situ, natch. Not just because I could lose Phoenix and Hissyfit, together. The utter agony of the prospect...but you can't control fate. The same thing that brought them to me was always going to take them away. But you always think it will be later, so later...so late as to be never. You have to, or you'd refuse to connect to anyone.
And that, that will bring you more pain than it saves...
I feel so bad because I'm not there. And she's seeing the vet, not the hospital. You need a referral to get access to the good doctors. She doesn't get to coast in because her brother has one. But I feel the most horror because she left here in a cat carrier.
Hissy is terrified of leaving the house. She will be screaming herself hoarse in her terror, the whole time she is out.
The way she is supposed to go to the vet's is: inside a bag.
More specifically, inside my black pleather backpack. I wear it in reverse, and buckle it in with me. I keep the bag closed, except for having enough room for me to slip one hand in, to keep pressed against her, as I talk to her, constantly, trying to remind her that at least she's not alone, that she is loved.
There's no frantic screaming this way. Though, of course, we're both still scared.
But I'm not there.
I know this was an obvious logical decision for the SU. But I know that, right now, she's frantic with terror. And it feels like my stomach is being cut out with broken glass.
With sick, and with shame...
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