Cats speak to poets in their natural tongue,
and something profound and untamed in us answers.
~ Jean Burden
Perhaps it is the poet in me that holds her so close,
perhaps it is the poet in me
that knows she needs the house a bit too warm,
and turns the heat up,
and just takes off my socks.
I prefer bare feet anyway.
Yet another hard weekend for her,
apparently unable to tolerate a new medicine.
3rd time is all the proof I need.
She is one tough cookie. She doesn't look it here, she looks fragile and giving-up, but she's not. And I must make a decision, have, in fact, already made it, to not give her the medicine, which brings up fears and unknowns, this medicine replacing another discontinued but well tolerated and extremely effective drug. There may be no other to replace this. And in the doing of that, in this power I have, what decision am I really making? In her natural tongue she is telling me no mas, por favor y let us see what happens. We will continue the fluids and the B12, we will talk to her veterinarian, and we will see what happens. But no more hard weekends like this because I have allowed a pill to be given to her, no more, no mas, indeed. It is a new road on my map of the year, a major road, one I didn't see coming, but one I share with this cat who holds a part of my heart, and we will walk it together, and if I have to carry her sometimes, I will. That's what you do with life and love. You carry on.
The ever-wonderful Michael is a pilot - have I ever told you that? - and he once, many years ago, told me that people, the general non-flying public, seemed to not understand something very basic about airplanes, which was that they didn't just fall out of the sky if something went wrong. He said if any emergency comes up, your first emergency procedure is to keep flying the plane - if the engine stops, you keep flying the plane, if the cockpit catches on fire, you keep flying the plane. You keep the plane in the air and try to figure out whatever has gone wrong. You don't give in, you don't give up, you approach the situation at hand and keep flying the plane. You carry on.
A lesson for this would-be navigator. This Maggie road will take us who knows where and at an unknown speed, but I have my compass, I know North, and so know the way home. If you see us passing your way, if your house is on this road we are wandering, please wave as we pass; I know a couple of birds who will keep us company as we make our way, but a friendly face here and there would be most welcome.
She is a bit better tonight.
Last night I made a pallet on the floor
and slept next to her for a while,
laid my hand on her foot
and fell asleep
listening to an almost silent purr.
but a purr nonetheless