I got a missed call earlier today at Niagara Falls. I suspected it was my brother, but i didn't call back. I should have.
Later during the day, I saw a picture my brother updated. He said he was taking my first cat, Kleine Kat, aka Kitty, to the vet. It's been so long, perhaps over three years since she was taken to the vet. I remember doing that with mum last time back in 2010, and Kitty was so scared of wing out and in her cage she literally was "shit scared"...
Just now, brother sent me a message. It doesn't look good. She may not have long to live. Her stomach is swollen with fluids and has not pooped for the last two weeks or so... The vet will run more tests and X-ray, but it doesn't look good...
My heart wrenched so horribly. I am in the car now rushing back to Montreal after a long weekend, and last week I lost my favourite teddy bear of all. And now... Now this news?
The tears are falling again.
How kitty must be suffering... How the discomfort of abdominal fluids must be... I saw it with my mum, how she groaned and moaned toward the end...
I wish to go home to Europe. I know it's exorbitant, it's terribly silly and I have so much work left undone and a looming deadline, but I so wish to go home to see my cat, even if its for one last time...
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