Does that make it sound like I sent him off on his own? More accurately, I took Harold to the vet on Saturday for his annual check-up. He was a very good boy. He didn't fuss for his shots, allowed the poking and prodding, and only made the occasional attempt to hide behind that molecule in the air right over there. Even the vet thought he was good:
(The situation with Pan, of course, means he shouldn't lose weight. Harold could stand to lose a little, but try that balancing act and see how well it works.)
It wasn't as bad as last year's check-up was. Last year, in addition to having to go in the car and be at the vet, poor Harold got a thunderstorm, too. It was all his worst things at once, poor baby. So this year, although no fun, wasn't as bad as that.
She didn't mean anything bad by it
The vet was really nice, and I know she didn't mean to upset me. But when we were talking about Pan (who only goes to the vet now in emergencies), she said something very cheery about how it's great that he's still doing so well, so long after his diagnosis with CHF.
Still. So long. From March.
I truly am grateful for every day he gets. I am. I'm very conscious of not knowing how long I will have him.
When I see him curled up, I check that he's breathing.
When I leave, I wonder how he'll be when I get back.
The vet said in March that it could be months, could be years, they just can't say for sure, and trust me, I get that.
It's not that I disagree with her. Every single day we get is great. I guess I just didn't need to be reminded.
It's never going to be enough, of course, no matter how much time he has in the end. Making it through the past four months has enabled him to get to ten years: in April, ten years old; in June, ten years that I've had him. Ten years is both a long time and not enough, not nearly enough.
And over the past four months, even more than in the last few years, I've wondered, far more often than I'd like, how I'm going to get through it, when the time comes. Not will it be bad, but how bad will it be? How will Harold and I do, when that train hits?
Enough of that for now! Here is the end of the depressing part:
Or, technically, the ends.
How does my garden grow? It grows!
Meanwhile, the garden weekended well, leading to a bumper crop:
Peas and green beans. I also picked more basil, whew, that stuff is growing! And some of these things don't grow quite straight:
Not that there's anything wrong with that. About five minutes after coming inside, I had the green beans and this:
I have a half-decent cuke that I'm trying to be patient with.
I'm nervous, though, since a look at the rest of the garden plots showed me that the critter-thing really likes cukes:
A lot of plants are missing leaves. Mine haven't been nibbled since the first time, a few weeks ago, but seeing the nibbles in other plots makes me edgy. I may pick that cuke sooner and smaller, rather than waiting much longer.
Camera focus continues to elude me. I suppose it's possible that someday I will learn to make the camera focus on what I choose, and that would be nice, but I get some interesting shots this way.
We all know, intellectually, that this life form will end. "Life" is terminal for all of us. But we don't want to deal with being without those parts that make our lives so wonderfully full and charming. When we die, dealing with our absence will be someone else's issue. We will have other things to deal with that (presumably) will take up all our time. So everybody else that matters to me? Keep living till I die and then you are on your own, kay?
ReplyDeleteExcept...knowing it(death) is SOON, or is DEFINITELY COMING really puts this incredible crimp on living... you can't just enjoy it as it comes, you have to SAVOR it and GRAB it close so you don't miss a moment because you know the moments are finite.
In some ways, I know that is good. I am reminded of the finiteness of this life so I pay attention to what matters.
On the other hand, it is so very exhausting to always know "the end is near! Prepare!"
On the best side, Pan and Harold both know they are loved and cherished. And the loss will hurt OH so much...but there will be many memories there to recall of just how precious the time is/was. And you will move on, blessed by the memories. And by friends and family who know and remember with you.
Enough maudlin. MORE PEAS! If the cats only knew, they would challenge you for the harvest! Great job, Ms Greenjeans!
You've had more time than you thought you could. As Kali says you should savor and enjoy it.
ReplyDeleteYou, Pan and Harold are an endless circle of love. Make enjoyable memories and know your tears will be a mix of happy and sad when it's time to shed them.
Love the photos of "the ends" and the veggies. You're doing good work!
Your post about Pan made me tear up. I feel for you.
ReplyDeleteIt's hard for me not to think the very same things about my sweet Kaesea. He's in good health (knock on wood) but he's older than Pan and I do find myself thinking about how much time we have left together. I'll be a wreck when he is gone.
Your reflections on how long you've had Pan and your memories of getting him as a kitten resound for me -- it seems like just yesterday that I got Kaesea and yet it was a long time ago. A lifetime ago, I guess you could say.
I will continue to send good and healthy thoughts your way.