Perfect bookstore…books and cats…it doesn’t get better than that.
Photo: Ricardo Oliveria
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I locked her in the bathroom, so I could give her the antibiotic. She went mad and started pulling her fur out of her hip. So, I let her out and now she hides day and night and isn’t getting her medicine. I’ve gone from depressed to despair. She is terrified when she sees me. I caught her once today, but found one of the two pills, a very tiny one, on the stair. She she didn’t get that. She’s supposed to be getting the antibiotic 2X a day, but if she gets it once, it’s a miracle. Yesterday not at all.
We are both exhausted. I feel like getting rid of all my furniture, or putting it in the middle of each room, so she can’t hide. Either that or put her in the vet for a week, which I don’t want to do, at all.
We re both going insane. So many places I can’t reach her and she just sits there and looks at me, as if I’m trying to kill her, instead of save her life. The surgery went perfectly, the medication, not so much.
I’ve been thinking of running away…a lot. LOL Like a five year old. Pack up my fuzzy rabbit and just hitting the road. Leaving Emily to live with someone who is better at doing what has to be done. I am not the Cat Goddess Bastet. Emily does not worship at my paws. She fears me and the tiny pills I have between my fingers that take two seconds to give her, but it takes all day and night to get them in her mouth, IF, I’m lucky.
I don’t know what’s going on. People talk to me but I don’t listen, all I can think of is how many more hours will I have to look for her, and will I ever be able to give her the medicine. She needs the medication because of a complication, not because of the actual surgery. This should have been over, but it’s not. It may never be over. When I die, I think I’ll be in charge of catching cats, wherever I end up, and there will be bookcases where they can hide and couches they can crawl behind. And that will be my personal hell, for trying to keep her alive and healthy.
My German Shepard, just stood there and let me drop the meds into his open mouth. He was a good dog. I miss him. Although he was afraid of one of our cats, and I don’t blame him. Everyone was afraid of Gota. Everyone.
Written
on October 30, 2022