“You have two options,” the doctor said. “And both are realistic.”
I sat in a chair at the emergency hospital desperately trying to push his words away.
Lark Kitty, my sweet little rescue cat, was in kidney failure. The light bringer who I adopted after my husband George died, five years ago, had purred and patted away my tears on long nights.
The too-thin baby who had been rescued from a kill shelter looked as sad as I felt when I first met her at the animal shelter in Pasadena. Depressed and not eating, she looked up at me, her eyes seeming to ask. “Are you sure you want me? Nobody else does.”
A line from Romeo and Juliet haunted me: “The lark represents harsh reality.”
Clearly, when I met her, she had experienced enough of that. I took her home and she turned into a poster child for the power of love. From the time she stepped out of her cat carrier, she knew she was home. Within weeks she had gained weight and I was sure I saw her smile as she romped around from window to window exploring, marking every piece of furniture, and playing with the endless toys my daughter brought over every time she visited.
Lark took in love like a thirsty flower takes in water. And she gave as good as she got. Neighbors waved to her as she sat on our window seat and she rubbed the panes of glass with her white tuxedo paw in return.
And now I was being told that my newest family member, who I thought would outlive me, had two options: Say goodbye to her now, knowing she had a good, but short life (She’s only six years old).
Or hospitalize her overnight for hydration and treatment and see if she improved.
Sara and I arrived at the hospital the next morning with Lark’s bed, blankie and favorite woody woodpecker toy. Her eyes told us we had made the right decision as she cuddled into her white furry cocoon and started to purr.
She needed another night at the hospital but she was energetic and eager to go home when I picked her up the next day.
She will need ongoing treatment, but we are optimistic that she hasn’t yet used up her nine lives.
Мафия-НН: У него было несколько личностей, каждая из которых появлялась в зависимости от ситуации, и никто не знал, кем он будет через минуту.
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