I took a photo of our beloved Hutch today just before Ralph and Phoenix drove him up to Summit Veterinary Referral Center, where they continue to run tests and put the dog on IV fluids and another batch of antibiotics. I had responsibilities here in town and so I performed them – cooking, cleaning, volunteer work, some support work for friends, taking Nels to the orthodontist, picking up a friend for an appointment.
With my time in Recovery and my discipline in spiritual work it almost seems like for naught as I am at the point of overload. Logically my mind says Hutch is in good hands and there is no point doing anything but wait until this latest series of tests and treatments is done – his third battery of treatments in as many days – and then see what the Next Thing is. However either my discipline is shot or there is a limit to even a tough cookie such as yours truly, as these several days of blinding worry have now got me in a numb, disconnected place. Last night for about an hour and a half after the second “we don’t know what’s wrong but he’s very sick and you’re right to be concerned” conversation I lost the ability to speak in a smooth cadence; it was only with a great deal of effort I could tell the kids and Ralph how to get dinner. Later in the evening I returned to normal. Today has been touch and go.
Hutch has been ill since last Friday; accordingly, I haven’t even been able to grieve the loss of our cat or process my upcoming kidney procedure. In the last case, good riddance. I don’t need to give the kidney procedure a single thought since it’s happening and there’s no point in thinking about it and I have no responsibility but Acceptance. The kitty… well I guess there’s no point thinking about that too, except I miss her terribly and I still feel that painful tug of What Could I Have Done Differently. I even remember the last time I saw her, heading away from us back towards home on the corner of 7th and L after she’d followed us a block – her tail all bushy and her back paws flipping up. I know I loved her well and often and with my hands and voice and thoughts while she was with us.
What else do I know? Well I am finding that sometimes – for me, usually! – it’s the easiest, natural, most healthy experience to Love. Other times it hurts so much it almost seems like I should guard against it at any cost – not that such an attempt wouldn’t be futile. I can’t help who I love and how hard, and this experience is showing me this in such a deep and profound sense that perhaps I will have more compassion for others when I get through what I get to get through.
