It’s become gloomy in paradise. My buddy Leon is not in good shape.
He’s been wasting away in front of me and yesterday he took a dramatic turn for
the worse. He’s not responding to my touch as he usually does, normally
extremely talkative, he’s been silent and immobile; he’s wet from my tears.
I got an appointment at the vet at 3:45 and went feeling like a
zombie. The vet hydrated Leon and took x-rays that showed nothing significant.
She also took blood samples; the results will likely come in on Thursday. In the meantime, I cuddle and spoil him,
worry and cry.
He’s barely eating or drinking.
The gloom has repercussions: I’m mute. I can only get one syllable
out at a time and at nine o’clock this morning I meet my new doctor. At least
it’s easy to say Yes or No to questions. I’m trapped in a nightmare.
God is trying to make things better: We’ve a week of sunny skies and
warm temperatures ahead and friends are coming to visit on Thursday and on the
weekend.
•
I’ve decided to fence my backyard. It’s something I had not wanted
to do because I love the open space. My backyard backs against forest. But if I
fence the yard, I can garden without concern for deer and my dog — when I get
him or her — will be able to go out on his own into the yard. I also think I’m also
going to buy a whack of wooden planters to tart up my place.
There’s are plenty of practical reasons for a fence but I also sense
that making these changes in my yard will really give me a feeling of this
place being mine. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m on vacation in a lodge and
that I don’t really live here.
•
When I think about losing Leon, I sink into a cold void. Since my
breakdown he’s the friend with whom I have hardly ever stuttered. I knew this
would come. In my head I am prepared but the sorrow is suffocating. With PTSD,
there’s no crying, there’s only hyperventilating so crying is actually
dangerous because I have asthma. Sigh.
This is life. I try to concentrate on the good times and take
comfort and pride in my devotion and care.
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