I wore my moonstones.
That's the necklace I wore when Fluff was lost in the woods. I used the stone to help find her. That's another story.
Today, I wore the moonstones for Fluff. Fluffernutter.
Back up. Last night she fell off the bed. Clunk, right to the floor. Woke me up. I lifted her back onto the bed and fell back asleep. I woke up again. She was having a seizure. I turned on the light and stayed with her. I hoped maybe it was a squirrel dream, but I couldn't wake her up. She stopped shaking and I fell back asleep.
She seemed Ok this morning. Not very peppy, but OK. I went to work.
It was the first day at the hospital for my group of nursing students. This is a wonderful group. They get along well, learn quickly, and are friendly and likable.
I came home from work and Fluff seemed disoriented. She wasn't in her usual spot. When I called, she looked in the wrong direction. She was slow to rouse. Her hind legs kept giving out: plop to the floor. I called the vet and described the situation.
"Well, she's 12. You're going to have to make a decision. You can come in tonight at 7, or Thursday night, or Friday morning."
I thought. Tomorrow I work, and I'm giving a talk on Reiki. Thursday is work and a Reiki share in the evening. Friday I'm going to a conference in Portland. She plopped to the floor again.
"Tonight. I'll see you tonight at 7."
I was still in scrubs. I quick showered and changed into jeans and a sweater. I chose the moonstones. I called my ex and left a message, "Fluff isn't good, we'll stop by around 5." I ran up to the attic for the dog bed she never used and threw it into the van. I lifted Fluff outside and gently placed her on the bed. We headed to Farmington, an hour north.
The sunset was beautiful, all pinks and lavenders above the ponds and pines. It got darker as we drove north. Fluff shifted frequently, then crawled up between the front seats where I could pat her head.
"We're going to the vet," I told her. "I know you hate the vet. You might not want to hang on for that, but stay til you see Sky again. Sky and Jingle. You need to see them." I thought about life without Fluff and cried all the way.
We approached town. The street light was out. Strange. It got darker. I drove up the driveway at Sky's house. No lights. The house was dark. What? Was he OK? Did he get my phone message? Maybe he didn't want to see us? I sat in the ticking car, you know, that sound the engine makes as it cools. It ticks. I looked again. There was the merest glimmer of light from inside, probably the TV.
He came to the door. He was holding a flashlight.
"The power is out," he said. "It just went out."
"That's funny," I said. "There's no wind."
He came out to the car. I opened the doors. Fluff was still, she didn't move.
"Oh," he said.
He patted her and called her name. I thought she was gone, but I saw her chest move. She was breathing. He kept patting her. Then she got up. I lifted her to the ground. She seemed confused. I carried her inside and set her down in the dark house. Jingle Bell meowed and they touched noses.
Fluff paced around and didn't slump to the floor. "Oh, she's better!" I said.
"Do you want to eat?" he said. "I was about to heat up leftover eggplant parmesan and spaghetti."
I thought. I looked at the candles set out on the counter. "I am hungry," I said.
He cooked. I sat on the floor as Fluff paced, then I lifted her to the couch and sat beside her. We ate.
Then I had to go. I went to check on Betsy, who has been ill. Betsy gave Fluff some Reiki and asked Fluff what she wanted. "She isn't ready to leave you," Betsy told me. "She isn't ready to give you up."
"I'll never be ready to give her up," I replied.
The whole town was dark. It was eerie, downtown all dark. College students wandered the streets, flashlights bobbing like lazy fireflies on a summer night. The girls wore boots and tight jeans, the boys in low baggy jeans. Big flashlights. I drove carefully. I didn't want to hit one.
I drove out to the vet's office. Arrived; it was dark like the rest of town. All dark. I could see stars right down to the trees. I looked at constellations. Big Dipper. I sat in the parking lot. No one came out. No lights. I headed home.
Again I drove through the woods, through the dark starry downtown, and past the bouncing flashlights of the careless students. I was cautious at intersections, where dead streetlights offered no guidance. It was auto anarchy, but we were respectful. I headed south. As I drove past the strip mall outskirts, the lights suddenly came on. Auto parts, Tires, Restaurants, Big Box Stores, and street lights. Light.
I kept driving. It's a two-lane highway back to the city. It was dark and I hate driving in the dark. I kept the wheels between the yellow and white lines. I dimmed my brights when cars approached.
We made it back to the city. I noticed a car was tailgating me. It had a funny shape, big. Was it a police car? I kept to the speed limit, 25 mph right there on Webster St. I could see the license plate and it had just 2 figures, strange. Police or diplomat? Still tailgating, what the heck? I made my right turn onto Scribner and glanced back. The big car pulled around me and accelerated aggressively. It was a hearse.
Back home. I fried some eggs for Fluff. She likes fried eggs. She plopped to the floor a couple of times. Now she's sleeping. Wonder what will happen in the next few days.
That's the necklace I wore when Fluff was lost in the woods. I used the stone to help find her. That's another story.
Today, I wore the moonstones for Fluff. Fluffernutter.
Back up. Last night she fell off the bed. Clunk, right to the floor. Woke me up. I lifted her back onto the bed and fell back asleep. I woke up again. She was having a seizure. I turned on the light and stayed with her. I hoped maybe it was a squirrel dream, but I couldn't wake her up. She stopped shaking and I fell back asleep.
She seemed Ok this morning. Not very peppy, but OK. I went to work.
It was the first day at the hospital for my group of nursing students. This is a wonderful group. They get along well, learn quickly, and are friendly and likable.
I came home from work and Fluff seemed disoriented. She wasn't in her usual spot. When I called, she looked in the wrong direction. She was slow to rouse. Her hind legs kept giving out: plop to the floor. I called the vet and described the situation.
"Well, she's 12. You're going to have to make a decision. You can come in tonight at 7, or Thursday night, or Friday morning."
I thought. Tomorrow I work, and I'm giving a talk on Reiki. Thursday is work and a Reiki share in the evening. Friday I'm going to a conference in Portland. She plopped to the floor again.
"Tonight. I'll see you tonight at 7."
I was still in scrubs. I quick showered and changed into jeans and a sweater. I chose the moonstones. I called my ex and left a message, "Fluff isn't good, we'll stop by around 5." I ran up to the attic for the dog bed she never used and threw it into the van. I lifted Fluff outside and gently placed her on the bed. We headed to Farmington, an hour north.
The sunset was beautiful, all pinks and lavenders above the ponds and pines. It got darker as we drove north. Fluff shifted frequently, then crawled up between the front seats where I could pat her head.
"We're going to the vet," I told her. "I know you hate the vet. You might not want to hang on for that, but stay til you see Sky again. Sky and Jingle. You need to see them." I thought about life without Fluff and cried all the way.
We approached town. The street light was out. Strange. It got darker. I drove up the driveway at Sky's house. No lights. The house was dark. What? Was he OK? Did he get my phone message? Maybe he didn't want to see us? I sat in the ticking car, you know, that sound the engine makes as it cools. It ticks. I looked again. There was the merest glimmer of light from inside, probably the TV.
He came to the door. He was holding a flashlight.
"The power is out," he said. "It just went out."
"That's funny," I said. "There's no wind."
He came out to the car. I opened the doors. Fluff was still, she didn't move.
"Oh," he said.
He patted her and called her name. I thought she was gone, but I saw her chest move. She was breathing. He kept patting her. Then she got up. I lifted her to the ground. She seemed confused. I carried her inside and set her down in the dark house. Jingle Bell meowed and they touched noses.
Fluff paced around and didn't slump to the floor. "Oh, she's better!" I said.
"Do you want to eat?" he said. "I was about to heat up leftover eggplant parmesan and spaghetti."
I thought. I looked at the candles set out on the counter. "I am hungry," I said.
He cooked. I sat on the floor as Fluff paced, then I lifted her to the couch and sat beside her. We ate.
Then I had to go. I went to check on Betsy, who has been ill. Betsy gave Fluff some Reiki and asked Fluff what she wanted. "She isn't ready to leave you," Betsy told me. "She isn't ready to give you up."
"I'll never be ready to give her up," I replied.
The whole town was dark. It was eerie, downtown all dark. College students wandered the streets, flashlights bobbing like lazy fireflies on a summer night. The girls wore boots and tight jeans, the boys in low baggy jeans. Big flashlights. I drove carefully. I didn't want to hit one.
I drove out to the vet's office. Arrived; it was dark like the rest of town. All dark. I could see stars right down to the trees. I looked at constellations. Big Dipper. I sat in the parking lot. No one came out. No lights. I headed home.
Again I drove through the woods, through the dark starry downtown, and past the bouncing flashlights of the careless students. I was cautious at intersections, where dead streetlights offered no guidance. It was auto anarchy, but we were respectful. I headed south. As I drove past the strip mall outskirts, the lights suddenly came on. Auto parts, Tires, Restaurants, Big Box Stores, and street lights. Light.
I kept driving. It's a two-lane highway back to the city. It was dark and I hate driving in the dark. I kept the wheels between the yellow and white lines. I dimmed my brights when cars approached.
We made it back to the city. I noticed a car was tailgating me. It had a funny shape, big. Was it a police car? I kept to the speed limit, 25 mph right there on Webster St. I could see the license plate and it had just 2 figures, strange. Police or diplomat? Still tailgating, what the heck? I made my right turn onto Scribner and glanced back. The big car pulled around me and accelerated aggressively. It was a hearse.
Back home. I fried some eggs for Fluff. She likes fried eggs. She plopped to the floor a couple of times. Now she's sleeping. Wonder what will happen in the next few days.
