My dear cat of 13 years, Benji, is very ill and has been since we relocated to AZ. This cat is my ride or die companion. He’s been with me through it all. He’s also had a rough go of it himself. Between being beaten by his previous owner, a severely botched declaw surgery, emergency surgery to remove a full blockage from his urethra and thousands of dollars later he has exhausted darn near all of his nine lives. Old age aside, the worst of his symptoms has been the constipation. He hasn’t eaten in over two weeks and is not drinking either. His weight is down so much he is just skin and bones and too weak to move. We’ve been trying to force fluids by way of an infant medicine dropper. Between his inability to control his bowels and our wild and crazy cat Taz not leaving him alone, we’ve moved Benji to the bathroom and have tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Knowing his time is coming to end and the outrageous cost involved in going to a vet, let alone not even knowing where in a new city and state to even begin the search for reliable care. I turned, as I usually do, to the World Wide Web for homeopathic remedies to ease his discomfort as he transitions on to a better place. But deep deep down I’m hoping and praying for a miracle. While my husband in turn, starts looking up area vet hospitals and the cost involved in simply putting him down. Neither of us want Benji to suffer any longer but we have very very different views on how to handle things. With my husband’s seeming lack of support and having just moved over 1,500 miles away from the close knit support system of family and friends back home, to say I am a mess would be an understatement. My son Hunter has even started fake crying that’s how much of a mess I’ve been. Continue reading “The Shitpocolypse”
The Alien Inside of Me
Those who know me well can attest that prior to meeting and subsequently marrying the man of my dreams, I had sworn off having children for many reasons. Reason #3,358 – the thought of feeling a baby growing inside of me freaked me out royally. So much so that I had additionally swore that if ever the time came that I were to become pregnant and felt the baby move that I would rush to the hospital that very instant and insist that they remove the alien from my belly immediately! Furthermore, to this very day I have never (intentionally) felt, touched, rubbed or patted a pregnant woman’s belly unless tricked or forced to do so. As for all those photos and videos of pregnant women’s bellies where you can see an appendage sticking out or see the baby move. Uh uh, not for me. I’ll pass thanks! Continue reading “The Alien Inside of Me”