BroCat

He didn’t take well to the medicine. Picked a different pet clinic rather than wait and thank God you did.

First night you’ve been in this house in 10 years without the brocat. He didn’t even fight going into the carrier. Dehydrated. Behavior changed within 48 hours and he just tucked himself off into the dark closet. You never came home without him at the door to greet you till today.

Going to have to move him tomorrow from one clinic to another but that’s it small price to pay. The big price will be the bill, but you’ll deal with that when it comes time.

Still have Ted here. She knows you’re sad. She knows why.

There’s people in war zones, you know. A lot of people with limbs blown off. People losing their whole families. How many people alone in this country are sitting by the bedside of a dying parent while you sulk?

It’s OK to understand that you aren’t used to loss. It’s OK to realize that all things are relative. Keep things in perspective. Odds are he’ll be fine for now – but one day he will be gone. And then another Ted will be gone. Mom. Dad. Friends here and there. Eventually you.

Reminds you of the assisted living home Albert had lived in in Oregon with Wanda and alone after she passed away. Visiting there after he died and speaking at the memorial. You were the youngest person in there, and dad was the second youngest. The rest of the room was filled with people that probably danced the night away on V-J Day.

How they smiled as you read what you wrote. Somber. You had to just make light of it right there in front of everyone. They weren’t somber. They were happy. For Albert being Home with Wanda. Just a fundamentally different way of looking at death. They had been surrounded by for decades at that point. They’d seemed to have led good lives. Few if any regrets.

Death wasn’t ‘death’ to them. Even Albert seem mildly annoyed for the two years to the day Wanda passed away before him. Metaphorically looking at his watch asking “OK what’s left?” Before passing away peacefully that night.

It’s not like you haven’t lost grandparents like everyone else. You’re not a complete stranger to death… but in that moment when you spoke… they were looking at you like adoring grandparents when you figured it out.

The high blood pressure is back, so who knows you’ll probably not have to attend as many funerals as your friends, lolz 😂

Whatever. It’s a train everyone rides through their lives. There’s only two ways not to go through it; dying young and choosing to close yourself off from others. No thanks, and no chance… 😂

You aren’t tougher or weaker because you’ve made it a little bit further without more losses close to home at this point.

And the Goober is probably gonna be okay at least for now. With pets it’s different. Not as impactful yet more at the same time because unlike us, they are innocent.

And you’ve lost pets before, c’mon.

But Bill is different. He just is. It hasn’t been an easy decade for you in a lot of ways. But he knows you somehow. He has since the moment he showed up. And he’s one of a kind.

Hurting is hurting. It’s no disrespect to someone who’s losing a parent tonight to be sad Bill isn’t here. The plan is for him to be back in time to hear you yelling at the TV during the Clemson Carolina game. And even if he wasn’t, just look through your picture album and be grateful for everything you’ve had.

Whether it’s this weekend or a few more years from now, you’ll lose him. One of these days you might make it to that age when death isn’t death anymore. But for right now? You’re only at the beginning of that – and at the age you are, that’s something to be grateful for.

It’s just a cat.

It’s not just a cat.

Thank You for them, and if you’re not out of favors yet, please help with the sniffles. The mask will be tough to breathe in tonight otherwise. 😕