Thank you all for the comments. I'm very sorry I haven't responded to any of them. Frances isn't doing well, and I'm having trouble coping. That partially translates to not responding to email in timely manner. I try, then people say "so how are you" and I reply "not so good, my cat is dying" and then it doesn't really go very well from there. So it's easier to just not open the inbox some days. And then days becomes weeks and it just gets more embarrassingly late.
I'm so tired of being this little puddle of goo of a person. I often wish I could just ditch the sensitivity, just get to the damn ending of the Velveteen Rabbit without bawling every. single. time. And it's not a good cry, oh no. I cry ugly, with my face all squished up and my cheeks flushing red and my voice goes all high and squeaky, when I can get out anything at all. I could use a little Vulcan reserve but I cannot damn learn how. Where's a class on how not to tear up over kittens or emotionally manipulative movies or just a stupid pretty picture, even? Just how is all this emotion useful anyway? I need some spines. Pretty pink ones.
5 comments:
I'm so sorry about Frances. It always hurts like hell and I admit to crying harder over some of the cats my family has lost than over some of the more distant relatives.
(One of my aunts kept her cat going for a while with the sub-Q fluids. She was a nurse so she was used to doing that kind of thing.)
Oh Carrie, I'm sorry. xx
I'm so sorry. And it's okay to be a puddle of goo when a family member dies. (Of course, a pet is a family member. Every pet owner knows that.)
I love you, puddle of goo or not.
I am just seeing this now. Sweetie, I am truly sorry. I went through the same thing with PK years ago. You went above and beyond to give her everything you could and buy her as much time as possible. She had a wonderful, safe, loving life thanks to you and the Love Monkey. xoxox
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