It’s been a slightly traumatising morning as my cat of eight years, Grace (who can fetch, play hide and seek, understands commands and crosses her paws when she sits all ladylike), is very, very ill.
I rushed her to one vet where I got really bad vibes from the office staff and vet and felt terribly uncomfortable with the chaos that was going on, the coldness/grumpiness of the staff, the way things were handled (taking Grace back to a cage and not letting me be there during the exam) and the rush to totally medicate and do surgery right away.
There were a lot of things that I was uneasy with so I listened to the sign and asked to have Grace removed from the back room cages (since they wouldn’t even let me hold her or see her), removed her from that office and rushed her to another. The second vet has turned out to be amazing and soothing to all of us (this reenforced the notion that one really ought to listen to their gut instincts and not apologise for walking away from someone/something that they’re less than comfortable with).
Currently, Grace is hooked while they hydrate her and do a little surgery. She’ll be there for a couple of days while I sit at home trying to move forward with errands, bill paying and preparing for a new work project that begins tomorrow. But it’s hard. The worry, the helpless feeling, well, at moments it’s a little too much.
So, all I can do right now is have some hope, drink some tea and continue to do what I can. Everyone gets through everything, even though the process might be trying.