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.