Harold Hits a Nerve
He's fine. He's fine. But Harold, who never gets sick, who has literally been sick about twice in ten-plus years, was a little urpy and wheezy this morning, and it really hit a nerve.
Every once in a great while, he gets a little wheezy, not actually throwing up but sounding a little scary. I give him some Petromalt*, and it smooths things out.
*I originally bought it for Pan, who did not want any, thank you. Harold loves it, and will lick it off my finger, so I give some every once in a while, to keep things running smoothly.
Friday morning, this happened, and he was fine. I worried a bit more, because his eyes were also a little extra-goopy, but he was fine and all's well.
It happened this morning, I gave him the stuff, and a few hours later, it happened again. I watched him, and worried, and found I was really upset.
Like, he can't be sick. I can't have it. I can't handle it. All that I went through with Pan, it's still too recent. I can't take more worrying and fretting and trips to the vet and watching and waiting and treatments and god knows what. I can't. He has to be fine.
The thing is, he is fine. I know this. He's fine, but I can't think about it too much.