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#but like their cat went into kidney failure like right after they got back from their last trip when i was watching them
liinos · 10 months
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Gonna be real yall I think the vets office is a tad traumatizing for me 👍
#had one of the most emotionally taxing and exhausting days in a while#im petsitting for my neighbor and i ended up having to take his dog to the emergency vet and was there for 8 hours#during which many Many people came to pick up ashes and that coupled with the fact that the last time we went to the emergency vet. you know#made it genuinely so hard to be there like on top of the fact that i knew it wasnt going to be great news#and then having to be the one to take the news that the dog has cancer which is obviously not a great prognosis... really rough day#and like having to see a lot of people coming in to put down their pets it was really really rough#and i feel really guilty even tho i know its not my fault the dog is sick and i couldnt have done anything#but like their cat went into kidney failure like right after they got back from their last trip when i was watching them#so it feels like im a harbinger of doom atp 🥴#and i am and have been really frustrated that theyve been going on so many trips exactly because#i was afraid of something like this happening like you have a senior dog and you KNOW goldens are prone to health issues#their last dog literally died bc of undetected cancer while they were on a trip#and this guy has been generally really healthy and was acting perfectly fine until last night#but still hes old and its just so unfair to him that theyve been traveling so much#i think total over this year ive watched him for roughly 3 months and like. i personally think that if you have a dog#you dont just get to do whatever like you have a duty to your dog but especially to older dogs
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savrenim · 8 months
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not to be another donations post but you may remember how over the summer we had massive amounts of plumbing problems and other unexpected moving costs? well. after proceeding to work every single hour available to me for six months, take no holidays whatsoever, and budget the hell out of every aspect of my life, I was actually on track to pay everything back and maybe have a little bit of wiggle room by the time summer came around!
and then we got a call from the vet about routine labs saying that if we didn't take Suzy in to an emergency specialty hospital immediately, she would die within in a week, she might die anyways if we took her there, but it was our only chance to have a few more months with her. after an extremely difficult household discussion, we decided that we needed to do as much as we could for her. she's been a beloved member of the family for 18 years. we were not going to abandon her in her hour of need.
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with two days at the specialty hospital, the prognosis was better than we could have possibly hoped! the most important thing is she does not have heart problems at all, which means that we can treat her chronic kidney disease with normal IV fluids and with careful treatment she could easily be with us for years to come. the timely intervention also may or may not have saved her from acute kidney failure too, we'll know when we go back to the vet on Wednesday to get her blood checked where her levels have stabilized at.
two days at the specialty hospital means we are also down $3652 , and no longer are on track to pay back everything by July when it comes due unless a couple of uncertain things going forward Go Right, I do not trust everything to Go Right, and we're also still uncertain about what long-term treatment going forward is going to cost.
I still have my ko-fi and my patreon, but honestly, I'm aware that everything is tight for everyone always and there are also a lot of causes that need money right now and in the face of that "hey my family went super out on a limb to try to save our cat and would love some help not falling off" feels kind of shallow. but like. not to sound dumb or like a youtuber or podcaster, but, like. honestly I think the Most Helpful Thing that anyone could do for me right now is take a fucking HelloFresh link that will send you a "free" box for cost-of-shipping ($7ish?) if you Sign Up For An Account that you can then cancel Immediately After The Box Has Shipped and Never Give Them Any More Money Than That and get Six To Ten Meals Out Of It, and for getting someone to "sign up", they will give me a free box too. like. if 13 people are willing to take a link then I don't need to worry about food for the next three months. which would be. HUGE.
so I guess.... dm me if you want a link? otherwise expect to see a lot of promotion of my writing/ patreon as I scramble the hell to try to make this money up
#my life#pet sick for tw#donation post#sort of#yes I am aware that Hello Fresh is problematique / union-busting#they are also currently the only easily accessible source of Free Food that we can actually eat/use#honestly if anyone Wants To Help but doesn't really have the $7 for shipping#I will freaking venmo you back the $7 after I get confirmation of account credit#sending someone $7 for $60 of groceries still means you have Gifted Our Household with net $50 of food#at no cost to yourself#I'm not in As Shitty of a place as last summer bc my mother is also deeply emotionally attached to Suzy#and has agreed to spot us in July for a bit of the money if we pay her back in September#it's just!!!! really FUCKING frustrating!!!!!! we had the money saved!!!! I have spent the last six months KILLING myself to have the money#and now we are back to nearly square 1 except with six months instead of twelve months to make up the difference#so. free food would be much appreciated. as that would also mean that no matter what bullshit the next few months throws at us we at least#know that there will be weekly groceries shipped to us#me @ my job give me overtime hours#legit might destroy me again to work a 240hr month a month or two in a row#but three months of THAT would put me in the clear and they've got free coffee and energy drinks at work#however in lieu of my job giving me the ability to Not Practice The Best Self Care in return for Ungodly Amounts Of Money#'hi friends and mutuals can I interest you in a HelloFresh box' is the best I can do#I swear I will never start a youtube channel or start podcasting tho
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feybeasts · 1 year
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Please don’t take from this any conclusions that I’m not trying to make here but.
I don’t fear dying anymore. Or at least- it doesn’t scare me like it used to. When I was younger, it terrified me, the notion that all this would come to an end someday. I dug deep into so very many… systems of belief, so many words of people wiser than I, and nothing seemed to sate the fear, nothing would bring me peace- it was like I couldn’t live anymore, and when my dad grew ill, it became a fever pitch. Eventually it wasn’t so much that I got over it, but I just got so… worn down, so bombarded with fear and anxiety and hurt that I just couldn’t dredge up the sensations anymore.
And when he died, I… cried, sure, I wanted him back, but there was a funeral to speak at, people to care for, I couldn’t grieve overmuch because like it or not, I had to keep living. And somehow, some way, I did.
I spent almost a decade like that. Just… carrying on. I wasn’t more than 25 years old when he passed away, still a kid in so many ways, especially with the struggles I was already facing, being autistic, anxious, facing traumatic stress I didn’t have a name for. I lived, despite the fear, despite the hanging, painful inevitability of it all.
And then, my childhood best friend lost her life to cancer. And my cat I had raised from a kitten. And my grandparents. Death after death after death.
And I stopped feeling anything- because each time, I was just… expected to be there. To be the strong one, the person that showed up. That was the mask I wore, there was no room to be anything else. I became hardened to it all. Loved ones just… slipped through my fingers, and all I could do was show up, little more than a black dog hanging at the edges of a half dozen cemeteries.
I’m not alone in this, I know people have been through worse, far worse. We often say death is one of the inevitable things in this world- “death and taxes” is the joke. And that inevitably haunted me, even if the fear didn’t. Any time I got sick, any time I felt off, any time I went to the doctor, all I could think was “well, is it my turn? Will this be the time they tell me it’s curtains?”
I mean, it felt inevitable, right? I had lost so much, so many people, so… thoughtlessly. Lung cancer, ovarian cancer, MRSA, kidney failure, a fucking… genetic defect. All just bad rolls of the dice, and my luck had never been all that good to begin with.
But the thing is, we can’t really… determine that for ourselves. I mean sure, you can do things that bring you closer, make that irreversible call- I am no stranger to attempts to check out early, I have the scars to prove it- but if you just… go on living, you don’t know when your time is up. And no matter how much you might assume you’re next on the chopping block after so many losses, sometimes you just keep… carrying on anyways.
For all the arrogance we have, for all our damnable pride, we ain’t craftier than the reaper. Maybe that’s for the best.
I’ve “kept carrying on” for the last eight years, regardless of what I thought. Sometimes I still feel like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, like all this, all the good I’ve known, the people I love, like it’s all just… a sweet song on the air, that I just get to listen to it for a little while before someday there’s silence.
When I was young, I was so afraid of when the song ended that I didn’t listen while it played.
Nowadays, I just try to sit back and enjoy the tune.
Nobody knows what’s on the other side of that door. It’s scary to think about. But when my time comes to walk on through, I like to think I’ve at least enjoyed my time here.
And who knows? Maybe death’ll just greet me like an old friend. We’re familiar, them and I- I’ll at least shake their hand and nod that little bit of understanding between us.
It’s the least I can do.
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alfvaen · 1 year
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That Which Passes, Passes Like Clouds
In the summer of 2011, we found a kitten in our backyard.
We'd seen kittens back there before, but always before there'd been a mother cat.  We’d had one that had nested under our lilac bush and had her litter, apparently, and some of them wandered onto our patio, though they were skittish.  We tried to tempt them with a bowl of bread soaked in milk, and while they were happy to eat it, they wouldn't let us get near.
But this kitten seemed to be alone, and friendly.  No idea where she came from.  But we were catless at the time (our previous cat Felicity having proved to have kidney failure after we took her in to the vet for peeing all over the basement, so we'd had her put down), and it seemed like the time was right for a new one.  Though there was one snag--we were already planning on going on a vacation to Victoria and Vancouver in a few weeks...so we didn't bring her inside yet.  When we got back, we discovered our neighbours had also made plans to adopt her, and even taken her to the vet...but they allowed us to keep her because they already had a cat or two, and we didn't.
She was interesting cat, not quite Siamese or anything but with a vaguely similar colouring; our vet thought she was probably part ragdoll (not a breed I'd heard of before).  Her fut was quite light when we got her, and we named her Cloud.  Somewhat of a long-haired cat, too, which was a new experience.  She grew quickly, and her fur darkened.
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We ended up letting her go outside (in warm weather, at least), since she'd come to us from outside and we'd left her there before.  Some will say that this makes us bad people, but whatever.  She was unhappy if she didn't get to go outside, although she wasn't a very vocal cat so she didn't meow about it that much, nor did she scratch.  She would tend to just sit patiently by the patio door and wait for us to notice her, and the same when she wanted to come in.
We moved houses the spring after we got her, which was stressful for her, but she adjusted quickly to the new home.  The previous owners had had cats and dogs, and Cloud hardly ever went down into the basement (though we put a second litterbox down there for her, she never used it).  Maybe it smelled too strongly of the previous pets?  Not sure.  She would come down once in a while, particularly if my wife (the house's usual denizen, and Cloud's favourite) was out or in the shower or something.
She was also not a lap cat to speak of; my wife was able to get her to sit on her lap for short intervals after patient training, but she would jump off if you so much as twitched.  I could pick her up and cuddle her, and we'd rub faces, but she didn't want that for too long either.  She was always a little standoffish with our kids.  Our oldest, who loves cats to bits, had a bedroom in the basement, which didn't help.  (I gather that cats will generally attach themselves to the dominant adult in the house...I remember being similarly frustrated with being neglected by the cat I grew up with.)
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She was also not a fussy eater at all--we went through several kinds of canned food (which we gave her once a day, on our vet's recommendation) and she didn't have a problem with any of them (though she had some trouble with the "flaked", as opposed to "paté", kind).  Her outside life seemed to give her lots of exercise, as the vet was always commenting on her good muscle tone.  After eight years or so we moved to the "senior" dry cat food (which was harder to find, but we got big bags), which she also didn't have a problem with.  And she was the kind of cat where we could just leave the bag sitting on the floor, top wide open, and never once did it occur to her to knock it over to steal extra food.
She was also not a very good mouser--we've had a few over the years, and once I saw her ineffectually try to bat at one that was running up the stairs.  Sometimes she would sit near a cupboard and watch it intently for a few minutes, and maybe there was a mouse there at the time, but she'd always wander off before too long.  We never could get interested in chasing the red dot; when we played with her, we'd try to drag string on the floor, or perhaps wave it through the air, and sometimes she'd pounce and sometimes she'd just watch it inscrutably.
Her most annoying habit was probably that of jumping from the floor onto our headboard, via the corner of the bed or my bedside table.  This was her way of waking us up in the morning to be let out, or perhaps to be fed.  If it was too early, then we'd sometimes must shut her out of the bedroom, whereupon she would sometimes manifest her other annoying habit of clawing at the carpet.  (There is a noticeable trough in the carpet right in front of our bedroom door.)  But mostly, as I say, she was content to just wait for us to notice that there was a problem.  She also was not a licky cat like some--she tended to bite my fingers, the legacy of some improper conditioning from fingerplay as a kitten, probably.
#
This year we'd made plans to go up to northern Alberta to visit my mother on the Victoria Day long weekend (May 22nd, this year).  As the time drew nearer, it became to seem less likely we'd do it, because the wildfire season had started off with a bang early in May, and there were some nasty ones near Highway 43...which led to the evacuation of not one but two of the towns that were regular stops on our trips up Highway 43.  So we cancelled.
And this was probably a good thing, because Cloud had stopped eating and was acting listless.
My wife and my oldest son took her to the emergency vet clinic on the Sunday, and they diagnosed her with Stage 4 kidney failure.  But they gave us some medicine--some appetite stimulants, some anti-nausea, and supplies for injecting her with water subcutaneously, as well as special food that was supposed to be easier on her kidneys.  She visited the litterbox a lot more frequently, and started peeing other places as well, and not cleaning herself off as well so she smelled and left stains on the places where she was sitting.
A visit to our regular vet invited the possibility that it might just be acute kidney problems caused by an infection, and we got some antibiotics.  We tried a number of things over the next few weeks (and racked up over a thousand dollars in vet bills), but apart from a couple of days where she ate desultorily, she hasn't been improving.
The horrible thing is that I believe I know what happened.  We'd recently switched grocery stores (as the nearest one to us just closed down) to the nearest Superstore...and when we were there the day before Mother's Day, they offered us a deal on "Mother's Day flowers" on our way out, and we decided to get them, possibly under some pressure at the checkout to make up our minds and stop holding up the line.  Now, we're not really plant people--we rarely have plants in our house, and if we do they're just picked flowers.  I don't really know what was in that flowerpot...but I have the horrible suspicion that one of them might have been some variety of Lillium or something that is extremely toxic to cats.  We may have poisoned her with some stupid flowers that we didn't even really care about.
Today she was scheduled for her last vet visit, the one she didn’t come home from.  I saw her briefly this morning, gave her a few pets, and that was the last time.
On social media I see plenty of posts about people devastated over the loss of their loyal pets.  And I tend to think to myself, "That's not me."  I am not going to be devastated at the loss of Cloud, as I was not at the loss of Felicity before her.  I'm already thinking about things like, "Well, we should remember to empty out the litterbox, and tape up the food packages.  Maybe donate them somewhere because we probably won't be getting a senior cat again right away.  Clean out the cat food dishes."  Etc.  Sounds pretty cold-blooded.  It's like...I just can't make those kinds of deep bonds with pets, for some reason.  Maybe I'm just dead inside, who knows.  I mean, it's not like I cried a lot over any of the grandparents that I've lost, either.  So, dead inside, probably.  (Which is why I'm posting this on tumblr instead of, say, Facebook.)
I don't know how my oldest son is going to handle it, honestly.  He has been a trooper in dealing with the injections and pills and stuff over the last few weeks, and he was the one who officially announced the euthanasia choice last night, but I know that every time he comes up the stairs he's always saying "Where's the kitty?" and I worry about what he's going to do now.  (He seems to be doing okay at the moment.  Starting a Murderbot reread.)
We'll probably end up getting another cat.  Not sure how long.  When we adopted Cloud we hadn't really made up our minds to get another one, and I don't recall offhand how long it had been since Felicity's passing.  Maybe it will come down to chance again, or maybe we'll decide at some point, "It's been a year, we're ready."  Or something.  Who knows.  Our next cat will likely be different, and meow at us to be fed at 5:00 in the morning, and be an inside cat, and maybe curl up on our laps or lick our hands.  Maybe they'll go down to the basement, maybe they'll catch mice or play with balls of yarn.  Who knows.
Until then, my brain will probably attempt to construe random sensory information as "oh, that's just the cat" and then I'll have to remember, no, it's not the cat.  Because brains leap to conclusions all the time.  Nothing supernatural about it.
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babystray-rescuecat · 3 years
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Update on Romeo 🐱
Romeo got diagnosed with stage 2 (of 4) kidney disease.
On the night of Friday, July 23, my hand came away with a sticky clear fluid after petting him. I checked him over but couldn’t find a wound on his body. 
The following afternoon, I saw the wound on his bum. It was already red. He’d most likely been licking at it. I’m not sure how he got it. I thought it was from sitting on some piece of roofing that got blown away by the strong wind. It’s healing up now and actually it looks like a pair of puncture wounds. Maybe he got into a fight. Maybe he got bitten by something. I’m not completely sure because it’s scabbed over now.
I took him to the vet on Wednesday, July 28 - a little late, I know, but it was the soonest appointment we could get. He’d already been a bit lethargic and refusing to eat by this point. 
I mentioned his stimky breath, and the vet leaned into him for a sniff and immediately called for a blood chemistry panel. She said bad breath is a sign of kidney disease. 😱 
I had no idea! We’ve been using the oral gel and it worked to get rid of his bad breath but only temporarily. We had to keep using it or the stink would come back. 
He was such a good boy during his physical checkup, getting his blood drawn and getting dewormed. His CREA and BUN levels were hella elevated. A sign of kidney problems but it could have been affected by other factors like dehydration. And he was dehydrated. So she urged us to get an SDMA test, which is directly related to kidney function and isn’t influenced by anything else. Sure enough, the test showed his kidneys are impaired. 
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I thought we were just about ready to go and I was just waiting for the print out of all the lab results and for the vet to write up the prescriptions when I was asked to go back into the exam room.
What I saw was hella terrifying. Romeo was hooked up to this machine and there were so many cables. I thought he had crashed and was dying! Turns out he was just having his blood pressure measured. The band that went around his arm was so tiny. He seemed so fragile in that moment. His BP was high at first, but the second time it was normal. Could have been just the stress of being at the vet. But there’s also a possibility of it being comorbid with the kidney disease.
He was prescribed nefrotec tablet to be taken 3x a day. It’s supposed to make him pee more to help him get rid of body waste. His kidneys aren’t functioning properly and so the waste builds up in his blood instead. He absolutely refused to take them when I gave them by hand. So I got a pill inserter to help. It worked the first time... and only the first time. Now I crush the tablet and cover it up with tons of yummy wet ciao treat and now he goes bananas for medicine time. 
He’s also taking antibiotics for his bum wound. He’s a champ at taking it directly by oral syringe. He also doesn’t make too much of a fuss when I clean and apply ointment to his bum. He can take off the velcro e-collar within two minutes of me putting it on him. So I got a different collar that is secured by buttons. It’s better at preventing him from taking it off, but he still did manage to slip out of it once by wedging himself into a tight space, getting the cone stuck, and then backing out of the cone. I only make him wear it about 30 mins after wound treatment to give it a chance to dry. It’s almost completely healed now. 
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I spent that whole first night after the vet visit reading up on CKD (chronic kidney disease). I looked up the official guidelines and his levels actually indicate stage 3 kidney disease. Moderately impaired renal function. Not quite kidney failure but way too fucking close to that for my liking.
The vet didn’t mention making dietary changes and/or a urinalysis. And she said I had to take Romeo back a week after for retesting to monitor his levels. But that seems like way too soon especially when his meds were prescribed for 14 days.
The SDMA test is also really fucking expensive. It’s Php 1,500. The full blood chemistry panel was Php 2,400. Because we had both done, there was a discount and both tests were Php 3,500. For the retesting though, Romeo would need the SDMA test again and only two components for the blood chem, CREA and BUN, which are Php 350 each. I also think he should get his phosphorus level checked, but the vet didn’t mention it. 
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I’m worried about his belly being a bit large. He’s got a visible waist still, so I don’t know if that’s just his primordial pouch or if he’s got some swelling or fluid buildup on the inside. I might take him to the full animal hospital to get an ultrasound/x-ray and a urinalysis. Our regular vet doesn’t have an ultrasound/x-ray machine.
What’s stressing me out a lot is not being able to feed him a specially formulated renal diet which is supposed to slow the progression of CKD. They’re just way too expensive. There’s also just not a lot of options here. There’s only hill’s and royal canin. We’re just going to have to make do with Special Cat Urinary which has okay ingredients and a phosphorus content that’s lower than other non-prescription cat food. Not as low as what our goal should be, but it should still help his kidneys a bit. It’s Php 1,200 for a 7kg bag compared to our usual food that’s only Php 870 per 7kg. I’m not sure if I should be feeding it to the other cats as well. The ingredients are actually better than our current dry food. The protein content is actually higher and the first ingredient is chicken instead of cereals.
I still wonder if there would be any benefit to doing the expensive renal diet even if for two weeks just to get his levels under control.
I’m feeding Romeo more wet food now and less kibbles so he can get more moisture. Given the choice, he prefers dry food, but that’s not doing him any good so I’m limiting his dry food intake. He’s also much more energetic. I’m really scared about what his levels would be when we do retest. But we’re just taking it day by day right now.
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See his paw in the cone. This was taken in the car at the end of our vet visit. We hadn’t even left for home yet and he was already working on his escape. 😂
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Talking about the Brattleboro Retreat in Brattleboro, Vermont
I recently spent two weeks at the Retreat and wanted to share my experiences both good and bad about it. 
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I arrived at the Retreat in mid-June of 2021 after a four day stay at the Emergency Department of my local hospital. Originally I had not wanted to go to the Brattleboro Retreat because it was such a big campus and I equated that with busy and loud and impersonal. The Retreat would challenge my assumptions.
Getting There
I didn’t drive myself. As I said I spent four days in the ED of my local hospital and so I arrived via ambulance. The ride was stressful and nauseating. I was already stressed and nervous and the mountainous winding roads did absolutely nothing to help. I didn’t lay in the stretcher, but sat in a back-facing seat with no arm rests and with a blood pressure cuff around my left arm. 
The trip took about an hour and except for a few questions from the person riding in the back with me, it was spent in nearly complete silence, which again, did nothing to help my nerves. There was no reassurance or even light conversation.
My Arrival
When we got there, they grabbed my bags for me, probably because I wasn’t allowed to have them yet, and with one person before me and one person behind me, lead me up the stairs to the admissions office. We were met at the door by an admissions person and I was dropped off like an Amazon package. The ambulance personnel left and I was officially at the Retreat.
I was first led to Security. They dropped off my bags with Security, and asked me to empty my pockets. I had none and told them such. Then I was led to an exam room where the woman who was with me found a gown that would fit me and held it up in front of her. I was then told to strip completely. I balked, but obeyed. First went my shirt, then my bra, then I stepped into the gown. Then with that covering me, I wiggled out of my pants and underwear. She gave me a pair of hospital pants to put on so I wasn’t completely bare. Then I was shown a chair and given a pair of huge grippy socks to wear. One size fits all, I guess.
After that the lady took my blood pressure, my pulse, and checked my oxygen levels. Then she took my temperature.  My clothes and shoes were sent to Security with the rest of my things. I had off-brand crocs as shoes so I had no idea what they needed to check for, but off they went.
After the clothing change I was led to an office. I felt so awkward standing in a grey hospital gown, blue hospital pants, no panties, and those huge grippy socks, in front of two nicely dressed office personnel. They let me have a seat and the questions and paperwork began.
What was my insurance? Did I know about the extra inpatient days allowed? Who was my primary care physician? My therapist? My psychiatrist? My case worker? Did I have an Advanced Directive? What are the addresses? Did I want a male or female provider? There were so many questions! 
Then it was sign here, and here, and here, and here, and here.
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After that I was given a green folder that said Welcome to Tyler 2 which contained various information that I would need during my time there. My patient Bill of Rights, how to file a complaint or grievance. That sort of stuff. 
Then it was off to another area and now they wanted a urine sample. I had already done two at the hospital and really didn’t need to pee, but I tried. I assume it was for a drug test, but I have no real clue.
Then I was sent off to another exam room, this time for a full physical. She asked me all about my medical history, whether I was having normal bowel movements or not, all about my diabetes, my family history (cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, heart disease, cancer, kidney failure, cancer), she even checked my reflexes. The ARNP that examined me had the neatest notebook. It was electronic and I was fascinated by it. 
(At the time of writing this I’ve only been home for two full days and I still have a very clingy cat who is currently laying on my left hand so if you catch a typo that kitty has caused me, please let me know.)
After the physical I was given one outfit to wear back, sans bra because my bra was underwire, and I was sent to a seat to wait to be sent to the unit.
The lady who watched over me offered me something to drink while I waited and when she offered milk I took her up on it. Unfortunately it was 1% milk, which I really hate, but hey, milk, so I drank it while I waited.
I didn’t have to wait long. Before long a Security guard and a nurse from the unit I would go to came down and led me down one corridor, in one elevator, through a cafeteria, up another elevator, and finally I was on the unit.
Tyler 2 
The first thing I noticed when I got on the unit was that the bedrooms were singles. Yes! I hate sharing my bedroom in hospitals. At the worst, I’d once had to share with three other people stuffed into a two person bedroom. Two poor souls had had to sleep on cots. So I was very happy to see that I would have my own room.
I was shown into an interview room for yet even more paperwork and questions. All this is the business of the psychiatric hospital and it comes at the literal worst time of your stay, the beginning. When you’re scared and your nerves are raw, and your mental health is at it’s worst.
A three question questionnaire was first. Why are you here? How can we help? What are your coping skills? Depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation. I don’t know. Reading and journaling.
Then there was a check list of things that helped when I was feeling bad. I was fascinated to see that laying down in my room was one of the options. Most hospitals I had been in forbade that, with some going so far as to lock the doors to the bedrooms during the day so people didn’t sleep the day away. It was a pleasant surprise, and I checked that off along with a few others that I felt applied. 
Then, the nurse, and we’ll just call her Rose, asked me if I was hungry and told me that they always had sandwiches on the unit and that the kitchen which held milk, orange juice, flavored water, cold water, hot water, coffee, teas, and various snacks was open 24/7. I declined both sandwich and snack.
Finally, I was left alone for a couple of minutes and I had a moment to just breathe. It was a Thursday according to the giant whiteboard that had the day’s schedule on it. Most of the groups were over with.
A little bit later a bag was brought up with my clothes and another with the few things I was allowed to have: my Bible; two coloring books; two books (A Street Cat Named Bob and A Wrinkle in Time); my toothbrush, my hair brush, and my composition notebook; were given to me. The clothes I wasn’t given yet. I was told by a nurse that because of COVID they washed everything that came on the unit whether it was clean or not and I would get my clothes once they were dry.
I was then shown my room. Number 219 was to be my home for the foreseeable future. It was a fair sized room, the walls painted hospital blue, the floor had boring brown patterned tiles, There was a plastic chair, a twin size bed with a single pillow, and brown blanket, and bottom sheet. There was no flat sheet. 
There was a set of built in shelves and a small alcove with an unbreakable mirror and large shelf where I put my green folder as well as my other personal belongings that I was permitted to have. I hung around in there for a few minutes before wandering back out and awkwardly looked around.
It was soon 8:30pm and Rose, who was my nurse that night, offered me my bedtime medications. I accepted and went to bed. 
The Schedule
I slept fitfully that night. I was scared, they checked on me every 15 minutes, and it wasn’t quite dark when I went to bed. I woke up obscenely early the next morning, which is very unusual for me, but I attribute it to the uncomfortable mattress, the lack of my comfort item; a stuffed cat named Fat Cat that I sleep with, and the fact that my room had a double window that faced directly East. The sun rises at about 4:45am right now, so it woke me up at around 5:30am that morning.
I wandered out, thinking it was much later than it actually was, since it was fully light out. I sleepily blinked at the analog clock and tried to decipher it. Inwardly I groaned at the time. To kill time, I awkwardly wandered around the unit again, and I think I laid back down for a little while. 
Eventually I left my room again and it was 7:30am. Shift change. I can’t remember who my nurse was that morning, but by 8am it had become quite the busy place with the morning nurses, the mental health workers, the social workers, and the group leaders milling about the nurses station. 
I noticed that the whiteboard had changed with the day, and so I glanced at the Friday schedule.
8am - Breakfast 9am - Community Meeting 10am - OT Movement 11am - Psychotherapy 12pm - Lunch 1pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 2pm - OT Activities 3:30pm Shift Change 4pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 5pm - Supper 6:15pm - Game room/small courtyard (yellow level) 7pm - Wrap Up 8pm - Free Time 9pm - Relaxation 10pm - Phones/computer/TV off
Yes, we had a computer. Some guy we’ll just call J tended to hog it, but so long as it wasn’t group, before morning shift change or after 10pm or 11pm on Friday night and Saturday night, anybody could use it. Of course Facebook and YouTube were blocked, but Vimeo wasn’t. Can somebody please tell me the difference between YouTube and Vimeo? 
I didn’t really go to groups that first day, and I was on Red level, so I wasn’t allowed outside even if I had wanted to. I did however see the Social Worker, a very nice woman we’ll just call M. and my doctor via ZOOM, Dr. L. 
All of the staff was really nice to me, and the unit, which at that point had a census of 19, was actually fairly quiet for the most part.
When 8am hit, and the breakfast trays arrived, I asked where I should go to eat. I was told I could eat on the porch, the day room, or in my room. Eating in peace alone in my room. Yes, please. I took my tray, got a carton of milk, and walked down the hall to my room. 
When I pulled the lid off my plate, I discovered eggs, home fries, and a corn muffin. I also had some fruit. I cautiously tried the potatoes and found them to be quite good, but couldn’t eat anything else so I took my tray back.
I hovered awkwardly around the schedule board until somebody brought me a chair.
Then it happened. My stomach began churning. I went to the nurses station and told one of the three nurses that I had a bit of an upset stomach and could I have something for it? She looked up something and told me I could have some Tums. She sent me to the med window and used some fancy machine to dispense the Tums. I stuck them in my mouth and chewed. I swallowed. It was then that I knew I had made a mistake. I literally felt the Tums hit my stomach, felt my stomach cramp, and then I was vomiting. 
After that experience and the cleaning up thereof, I got my morning meds at around 9am, and soon found myself back in the interview room, this time with a nutritionist. At least I think that was Friday. It could have been Monday. Regardless, I talked to her about being sick (it wasn’t the first time, I had gotten sick back in the ED as well), my lack of appetite, my diabetes, the medication for diabetes I was on (2000mg of Metformin and .5mg of Ozempic). She gave me some information the nutritionist I had talked to from my doctor’s office had already given me, then ordered Glucerna for me three times per day.
Glucerna is the diabetics version of Ensure for those of you who don’t know.
I slept a lot that day, and I’m pretty sure I refused lunch and maybe supper. They checked on me - and everybody else - every 15 minutes, but otherwise didn’t pester me.
The next day, of course, started the weekend. I can’t remember the exact schedule for the weekend, but it was far, far more boring than then weekday. There was just Community Meeting which I wandered into but didn’t participate in, a couple more courtyard opportunities than on the weekdays, more free time, Wrap Up and Relaxation. Relaxation happened at 9pm, but I already considered that bedtime as that was when I got my bedtime medication.
Sunday was just a repeat of Saturday with one bright exception. Sunday Sundaes. At around 2pm we got ice cream with sundae toppings that we could have on it. I don’t think I got it that first Sunday, but I can’t quite remember.
Monday doesn’t bring any particular memories except that that’s when I started attending a group here and there.
Meeting Nathan
Then Tuesday came, and I met Nathan. Nathan was a Psych intern who is now no longer there, so I’m not afraid of using his name. Nathan did 11am Psychotherapy, but had been on vacation the week before as well as Monday. I liked him instantly. He spoke quietly, thoughtfully, gently, and never pressed for answers if the person didn’t want to or couldn’t.
At first, we only spoke in group, but after one group disintegrated into chaos he ended it early and offered to speak to me one-on-one. The one-on-one time I got with Nathan, which eventually became every weekday, became the best, most helpful part of my stay at the Retreat. Some of his questions were hard. They were either highly thought provoking or brought on strong emotions, but he was very skilled in not pushing too hard and always bringing me back to the present if I got too lost in the past. 
I think I opened up more to Nathan in the week and a half that we spoke than I ever did in the two years I’ve seen my normal therapist. 
The Nightmares
I’ve suffered from nightmares for a very long time. In my nightmares I’ve been raped, had my home invaded, seen demons, had my parents stolen away by a dragon (that one happened twice. Same stupid dragon too.), been kidnapped, been chased around Wal-Mart by paramedics with a stretcher, and so on and so forth. The nightmares I suffered at the Retreat were something else entirely.
The dream I remember most, and let me list off some trigger warnings real quick: blood; abortion; abuse; infant death; decomposition; bad parenting; bad medical professionals, was about this young woman who tried to do some sort of home abortion that got botched. She went to the hospital and they sent her strait to surgery where they cut her open with no painkillers or anesthesia. The baby was tiny, but healthy and viable, so they took her out of the young woman’s womb, and haphazardly stapled the woman’s abdomen back together. 
Then the dream began to focus on the baby, but not in linear time, but rather in snapshots. In the first snapshots the baby was fine. Pink, perfect, beautiful little girl dressed in frills. Then the next day’s photographs and the baby’s face was turning black in places. The next; her eyes turned murky and there was more decomposition. Mind you, while she’s decomposing, she’s still alive. Then her little fingers turn black and fall off, and it continues like this until the fifth day when the baby finally dies.
The mother, who was recovering from her own trauma, couldn’t have cared less about her baby.
The nightmare turned weird after that and I don’t remember what happened next, but I continued to have vicious nightmares during my stay there.
Dr. L tried to treat them with Prazosin. but I found that it made my nightmares more vivid. Then she tried to get me in a deeper sleep so the dreams wouldn’t wake me up, but that only got me caught in the nightmares and unable to wake up. 
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We never did figure out how to ease the nightmares and keep me asleep at the same time. Right now we’re trying a higher dose of Gabapentin, also known as Neurontin. I guess we’ll see how it works out.
Strange Characters 
There were some...interesting characters at the Retreat. There was one guy who we’ll call J. You may recall him from my complaints about him being a computer hog. He suffered from delusions of grandeur and I believe psychosis. One time I was in the open area near the nurses station he began staring at me suspiciously. Then, after a couple of very awkward moments he asks me, “are you an Imperial or a Rebel?” I told him I had no idea what he was referring to. Miss J who was sitting near by goes, “she’s an imperial, she’s a good girl.” Then J nods and says  “I know she’s my sister in Christ, so she must be good.”
I still have no idea what he meant by Imperial or Rebel. Is it a Star Wars thing? If so I thought the Rebels were the good guys. I’m so confused. 
Miss J was a homeless woman who had been there for nearly nine weeks. She was very nice to me, but she mumbled a lot and I had to keep asking her to repeat herself. 
M was a strange old lady. She would sit at the nurses station and laugh and laugh and laugh as loudly as she could, then all of the sudden she’d be declaring one of the housekeepers an angel on earth and how he should be protected and how everybody else was basically garbage. She eventually got taken out via ambulance.
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A was another strange woman. Having been there since May 27th, 2021, she was there involuntary, She talked to herself a lot, drank loads of coffee, walked in and out of groups, and was best buddies with a woman who liked to be called Rabbit, as her real name, the same name as A, triggered her. A and Rabbit were thick as thieves and fed off of each other’s chaos.
Rabbit liked to sing at the top of her lungs when she was happy and when she was angry she would file a grievance, announce loudly that Obama was her father and that you (the nurse she was screaming at) aren’t her boss. She was nice enough to me, but I went out of my way to be as non-intrusive as possible.
Then there was D. D was 30-years-old, claimed to have 12 children. D was volatile, a substance abuser who enjoyed “a drink, some weed, and some coke”. Pretty sure she didn’t mean the soda. D had a shadow who had to write down what she was doing every five minutes. I don’t know exactly why, for the most part, volatile or not, she was pretty chill. She dressed provocatively and the first time she spoke to me it was early morning and we were on the porch.
She asked me why I was there. I told her depression. She asks my why I was depressed. I admitted that there was a lot of trauma in my past. She tells me she’s been (tw:rape) raped all her life, and then proceeded to tell me that I shouldn’t be depressed because I was pretty and thin. Now. I’m smaller than D was, because I’ve never had children, let alone 12 of them, but I’m 5′3″ and 210 pounds; thin is not an adjective I would use to describe me. 
She then proceeds to tell me that I needed a better bra. I was wearing a soft low support sports bra, so yeah, my chest area was very un interesting. I told her I was just wearing something I could sleep comfortably in. She told me to shop at Victoria’s Secret for some better bras and I’d feel great. 
After that, D decides to mention the gray in my hair. She says “you should get extensions to make your hair long and pretty, or better yet, shave your head and wear wigs. It’s what the black girls do.” She then went on about how wigs could really look good and how I’d have so much fun with it that I’d forget all about being depressed and how there were some sites where you could buy some good wigs for really cheap.
As I recall, I was fairly unresponsive during her spiel and walked away as soon as it wasn’t rude to. 
The Really Bad Day
I don’t recall exactly what day it was, time blurs for me on a good day, and I wasn’t having any good days while I was at the Retreat, but one day was really bad.
TW: Suicide TW: Self-Harm
I was really, really suicidal, and I told the nurse I was talking to that. She asked if I had a plan, and for the first time I really did. I told her I would wait until right after a check - remember we got checked on every 15 minutes - then I would take a pair of my pants and wrap them around my neck and strangle myself. 
Then she asked if I intended to follow through with the plan. I wanted to, I really did, but I also didn’t want to cause trouble, and that’s a huge issue with me, so I told her no. And that was the truth. I was suicidal, I did have a plan. I had a detailed plan actually. But I didn’t really intend of following through.
As you might expect, she had to report that to my doctor. Dr. L. spoke to me about how I was feeling and later, about five minutes after I had gotten on the computer to use Duolingo to distract myself, (See, I was using coping skills.), the nurse I had spoken to, and who I liked quite a lot, came to me and said that Dr. L wanted them to temporarily confiscate my clothes and take the sheet and blanket off my bed. It was to be replaced by blankets that couldn’t be ripped. Nurse E told me it wasn’t a punishment, it was a safety precaution, but I was so embarrassed and felt punished. I was allowed to keep the weighted blanket they had let me borrow, and my pillow, but other than that they took every bit of fabric in the room.
I don’t know if it was a good move or not. I just know that I wanted things back to ‘normal’, as though anything in a psych hospital could be normal, but the next day I lied to Dr. Lambert and told her I was feeling better. She said I could have my stuff back, but for some reason when I asked a nurse later on, she told me that there were no orders about it from Dr. L. 
I asked again the next day and was finally able to get my linens and clothes back. I even got an extra pillow, for which I was very grateful for as my original pillow had been quite flat and hard.
The Road to Discharge
I was originally supposed to have been released on June 29th, a Tuesday, but I had to admit to Dr. L that I just didn’t feel like I could be safe at home yet. Not to mention that we were still trying to deal with my nightmares and sleep issues.
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Dr. L and M, my social worker began giving me assignments to do. I was to fill out a safety plan, which I did. M had me write a letter to my regular therapist about the changes I needed her to make to improve our sessions. I am terrified to read it to her, but I really need to. I was given a huge stack of DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) information and worksheets to fill out, Nathan had me write something about a cousin of mine who had passed away due to an overdose of Fentanyl, and so I wrote her a letter telling her how much I missed her, how I was angry she was gone, disappointed that she couldn’t tell me she was back on drugs, how I was angry at her mom for getting her hooked on drugs in the first place, and ways I could have helped if she had just let me.
Meanwhile, people found out that I could make things out of the Model Magic that they had in the Contraband/Sensory room. I made I can’t even remember how many cats for people. I also made roses, and one dragon. 
I was also writing dark poetry, just trying to purge my dark thoughts and get them out on paper.
Nathan continued to have one-on-one therapy with me each weekday, even if he only had half an hour.
I was meeting with my social worker daily, which they normally didn’t do, but when she realized that I wouldn’t go to them if I needed something, she decided to head it off, and meet with me, even if it were only a couple of minutes, each week day.
Finally, we decided on a day. Friday, July 2, 2021. I was so nervous, but so excited to come home and see my furbaby, Loki. 
When the day came, I dressed in the nicest clothes that I had brought, which was a pair of elastic waist jeggings and my pink Cat Mom t-shirt which everybody loved. I only went to one group that day, and that was Psychotherapy, and I had my meeting with Nathan. I had one last meeting with Dr. L. and my social worker. My nurse that evening gave me my treatment plan which had my diagnoses. (Major depressive disorder, severe; Borderline Personality Disorder; and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)
Just as supper arrived I got the word that my ride was there. 
Final Thoughts
Being at the Brattleboro Retreat was a difficult experience, but it was also a positive experience. In the beginning I was mad I wasn’t at the place where I had wanted to go, which was the Windham Center, but by the end of my first week there, I had decided to make the best of where I was. I didn’t like all the nurses, I definitely had my favorites and those I dreaded, not that they were ever mean to me, but I’m not sure, there’s just people you don’t like, you know? 
I was on a great schedule while I was there. I was up no later than 8am and went to bed around 9pm, I ate at specific times. I got my medicine at specific times, and that routine was very comforting. Did I keep to it when I got home? 
No. It’s currently 12:26 in the morning and I’m working on this still. 
I’m still drinking my Glucerna, no matter that it costs me $40 a week for three a day, but I just don’t want to eat. Oh, I nibble. I’ve eaten some chocolate graham crackers and sipped on a 20oz Vanilla Coca Cola over the last four days. I just don’t eat. 
I learned, while I was there, that it’s okay to speak up, to take up space, to have a voice, even if it’s quiet, I learned that it’s okay to get angry or ask for help. I can ask people for what I need. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to apply what I learned, but that’s always the hardest part of learning any new skill. 
I know that this has been a huge amount of reading, but I wanted to give you a detailed example of what a psychiatric hospital is like. I hope that it informs you and I hope that if you’re heading to a psychiatric hospital or treatment center that maybe after reading this you’ll have less fear and anxiety because you have some clue as to what to expect.
I would also like to let my readers know that these are just my personal experiences in an American psychiatric hospital. I have no idea about British hospitals or European hospitals or even hospitals in other parts of the United States. My experiences in hospitals in Florida is a stark contrast to my experience in Vermont hospitals. I find Vermont’s response to medical care and psychiatric care in general is substantially better than Florida’s. I’ll do a post on that later.
Ask for help. Take up space. Use your voice.
National Suicide Hotline: 800 273-8255 Crisis Text Line: Text START to 741741
By the way, if you need me to tag another trigger word, please just send me a message and I’ll edit the tags to take your trigger word in consideration.
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kannra21 · 4 years
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@owishi Asdfghjkhgfds I want to write sum HCs rn! 😆✨✨
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~o0o~
After a successful photoshoot the MCPTF duo took for a detective magazine, Haru bashfuly thanked the camera crew for their work and started to gather his belongings. After a couple of seconds he didn't see Daisuke moving much from his spot at the studio backdrop so he decided to check on him.
Daisuke was still standing there, petting a beautiful cat on his shoulders. He was smiling for the first time in a long time and Haru couldn't help himself but to tease him a little.
"You have a soft spot for kittens, huh Kambe?" "Huh?" "You love animals don't you?" "Don't get the wrong idea. Just because I helped that little boy with a dog back the-" "I get it, no need to get so self-defensive." Haru approached the two and pet the cat as well. Daisuke continued "We had a family cat back in the days but she died from a kidney failure." "I'm sorry to hear that." "Pedigree cats are always difficult to maintain."
He then approached the studio producer and asked "What's the name?" while pointing at the purring ball of fluff. "Oh the name's Kumo-" "No, I meant the name of the breed." "It's a Maine Coon my good sir."
Daisuke took his phone, dialed a number and a lovely lady could be heard on the opposite line "Yes, Daisuke-sama?" "Suzue, do we have all the predispositions that satisfy the adoption of a cat?" "I mean yes but we can't charge a butler to take responsibility for everything. Consider chipping, regular visits to the vet, special shampoos, nail clippers, toothbrushes, specialized treats, eye drops, litter box, toys, climbing frames, there are many factors which need to be taken care of Daisuke-sama. Besides, it's been such a long tim-" "Alright"
Daisuke ended the phone call with a dissatisfied sigh before asking quietly "How much?" to which Haru needed to interfere. "Didn't Suzue-san just tell you not to take a cat home?" and Daisuke gave him an annoyed side-glance "I'll figure something out."
When he arrived to the mansion in his Bentley Continental GT, he glanced at the backseat to address the feline comfortably lying in the fancy pet carrier. "You better not make a sound, understood?" to which the cat just purred in satisfaction. Daisuke felt so silly at this moment, like a little boy hiding a broken vase from his mother.
When he was about to enter the mansion, he accidentally walked on Suzue typing something on her tablet. She looked up and was delighted to see Daisuke coming home safe and sound. Daisuke stood at the doors, one side of his body peering from the corner while the other with a cat was hidden behind the wall. "Welcome back Daisuke-sama, the crack-open naengmyeon is already served on the table, you can take your seat." "Actually, I was planning on doing something else beforehand. Would you please excuse me for a moment?" "Of course." Suzue turned around and waited for him in the dining room. And although Daisuke was very good at keeping his serious demeanor, Suzue still noticed that something was off, with the tone of his voice for instance. It was very faint but Suzue was able to recognize things like this since she knew him so well. Still, she decided not to question him about it.
Daisuke entered his room and laid the pet carrier on the floor. Opening the zipper, the cat jumped out and rolled cozily on his bed. Daisuke held his phone and took a picture. He decided that he couldn't leave it by itself so he went downstairs to the storeroom where he took a litter box and filled it with old newspapers just in case.
After that he joined Suzue for lunch, they talked about Daisuke's photoshoot and Suzue's data she collected on certain people regarding a case. Daisuke told her that the magazine will be published in three weeks or so and Suzue was so happy she promised that she'll be the first costumer to buy it. Daisuke smiled more around Suzue after he let go of his past and threw his father into the jail. Now that all the bad things are behind him, he can finally indulge in his life and pay more attention to Suzue to whom he has yet to make up for all she has done for him over the years. He's thinking about marrying her soon.
While they were eating and pleasantly chatting, a high pitched "mrow" could be heard from the upper floor.
"What was that?" Daisuke let out a dry cough and said "My apologies. It seems that I needed to take a thicker coat before leaving for an appointment." "But.. you always pay attention to things like this." "It's true, but today I was a little late, had other things to do." "Don't overwork yourself, you need to think about your health." "Seems like you need to take better care of me.", he said with a smirk plastered on his lips to which Suzue just laughed and replied "You're so spoiled." and he scooted closer to her whispering "But I like it better when you do it.", and almost kissed her before the two heard a soft thud coming from the above.
"Excuse me for a moment, I need to check what's happening up there. Will be right back.", maybe the moment was ruined but he kissed her forehead nonetheless and went upstairs, leaving her full-hearted and all mushy inside. Her mind was so hazed from the thought of Daisuke kissing her forehead and almost kissing her lips that she didn't register the cause of his concern.
When he arrived to his room he had things to behold; scattered papers and documents all over the floor and the ashtray he typically used after his "adventurous nights with Suzue" was lying on the ground right next to the nightstand. The cat was sitting on his working table licking her paw as if nothing of this concerned her in the slightest. Daisuke sighed in disappointment and put her back in her "baby jail". She already gave him such a hard time but he couldn't be angry with her, she was his baby (yes he already considered himself a dad for god's sake).
Since they already finished with their meals, Suzue went back to her tech room to finish her work and Daisuke took the opportunity to place some meat and water on small plates and bring it to his naughty little friend.
The cat calmed down instantly after she ate and went straight to sleep. Daisuke couldn't believe his own eyes, the audacity, the sheer amount of spoilage this creature showed was unreal. It reminded him so much of himself and he smiled a little. He really missed having a cat.
After he cleaned up and finished his other tasks, he laid on the bed next to her and pet her soft white fur, making her purr louder and snuggle up beside him. Daisuke knows that Suzue is not stupid and that she'll eventually catch up on him sneaking behind her back to give Furry Elise treats (yes her name is Furry Elise, "Für Elise" might be one of Beethoven’s best-known piano pieces and Daisuke knows how to play it too).
And it actually happened that same night. Daisuke was about to fill her small plate with more meat when he met Suzue in the kitchen and she asked him what he was doing. He instantly gave up because it would be so blatantly obvious and incredibly stupid of him to say that he was trying out a new weight-losing tip when no one in this god-forsaken world ate raw chicken.
So he took her to his room and showed her Furry Elise. And although the cat purred really loudly upon seeing them, Suzue wasn't happy about it. In fact, she looked really disappointed and Daisuke needed to apologize. He explained her how it happened and how he wished to have a pet after a really long time. He thought she liked cats as well and therefore concluded that it wouldn't be such a big deal to adopt this cute little feline she loved so much, but apparently it was, so he asked her one more time why she was so reluctant to the whole idea of owning a cat again.
Suzue now shredded a couple of tears and Daisuke was seriously alarmed upon seeing her like this so he carefully cupped her with his hand behind her back and hugged her, asking why she was crying all of a sudden.
"It's just.. I don't want to go though this all over again." "What are you talking about?" "You see, my parents died, your parent died, our previous cat died so soon. I'm living in fear every day and asking myself if something's going to happen to you as well, that's why I'm so excessively worrying about you. And everything I need right now is another sweet creature that I love so much leaving us again. I don't think I'd be able to handle it anymore."
"Suzue.. I never thought..", Daisuke kissed her head and felt a big amount of guilt dawning on him. He was so selfish for only thinking about what made him happy without considering Suzue's emotions. But then he reclaimed his mind and tried to concentrate on saying the right thing. Hopefully he can make her feel better again.
"Suzue, my dear, you shouldn't limit yourself to things that make you happy. It's not healthy. You see, none of us is eternal; neither you, nor me, nor this kitten down there looking at you with so much love in her eyes. But for that very reason that none of us is eternal, we should dedicate our time to one another and make most of it. So please don't deny yourself or your feelings. Instead of dwelling on the sad things, we should concentrate more on our time spent together and be happy, okay?"
Even Daisuke didn't know how he managed to word it this nicely but he did and he realized that both of them were crying by now. They shared a passionate kiss but got interrupted by a small furball rubbing on their feet like it wanted to share a hug as well and Suzue smiled through tears.
She squatted and carefully took the cat in her hands. "What's her name?" "Furry Elise." Suzue now needed to laugh so much and she hadn't even recovered from her previous emotional outburst.
"I love it, you're really good at this.. it's.. the song you used to play for me all the time before you went studying overseas."
He looked at her with so much love and adoration at this exact moment.
"Know what? I think I'm falling for you all over again, Mr. Millionaire." Daisuke swore, his heart was full that night and no money could ever compare to this feeling.
@daisuzuship @innovativestruggles @narcopharmacist @unholysoggytea @riaymei @ieatcrumbs @cow-goes-oof @matchabucks @bluegleeful @levi-is-heicho @kakooshi @kokorokai @darknessrxse @fluffyyagiza @geniusmeemee @sungmnnnn @koalarin @alstroemerie @petiamaximoff38 @hellohellokookie @marialenikiforov
It's daisuzu stuff so I hope you enjoy. If you want me to delete your tag you're free to tell me. 👍
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vio1315 · 4 years
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Okay, well I’m gonna write a memorial thing for my cat
At the time of writing this, he’s still alive, but I will post it after he’s passed
So
Basically
My cat has cancer and kidney failure
It came on extremely fast
We just had his bloodwork done to find his gallbladder was infected and all the other bloodwork was fine
Then about a month later we go back because he seems so unwell, and boom. Kidney failure. Anemic. Super super bad.
At this time he’s basically in kitty hospice cuz I really wanted him to have a few good days after like two months of feeling bad.  Now... he’s a very good cat
I think he’s the first animal that’s really been mine, and definitely the first I’ve loved to this extent.
He’s only eight years old right now, which is a lot, lot younger than I ever expected him to go.
I named him Poe, though my parents call him Boo, but it doesn’t matter cuz I call him Buddy and Baby so much he responds better to those names
My mom likes to call him Boo-ber and Boo-lardo
He had always been a very fat cat. I always got on my dad’s case for giving too many treats, and pressured my mom into giving him less food each day (it was definitely over the amount a cat should have), but he kept that weight. 21 pounds of it.  And he loves, more than anything, to lay on people. Or halfway on people. Even as I write this he’s laying on my arm, purring.
He would sit beside my dad on the couch, follow my parents to their room and lay on them until they went to sleep, and then come cuddle with me in my room until I went to sleep. He would lay on my shoulder and watch me on my tablet, I can’t remember what he did before I got one...
He had a bad habit of waking you up for extra attention if you didn’t kick him out, so that was basically his daily routine for a few years. As he got older he became really good at understanding just to lay at the foot of the bed instead.
We first got him because when we were walking through to look at cats, back and forth, he kept sticking his paw out of his cage and putting it on my dads chest to stop him. He has always been a people kitty.
They told us he was a girl cuz we only wanted a girl cat, but as we were driving home we saw the truth on his paperwork, but decided to keep him anyways.
He was so skinny at that time, and we found out why pretty fast.
He wouldn’t eat his food. They fed him science diet and he /hated/ it. Not one piece.
So finally we gave him Meow Mix which our other cats were eating at the time, and he suddenly showed us he could eat just fine.
He was always stubborn that way. He liked to find places I told him he couldn’t go and go there repeatedly no matter how many times I dragged him away. We had a good bout if battle of wills this way, but eventually he came to be very good about listening, only really getting into trouble if he was mad at me for not opening a door for him or something.
He is such a good cat.
The poor thing can’t jump up onto furniture anymore, so I have to pick him up and put him there. When I set him on my bed, the first thing he did when I got settled was lay on my shoulder and purr super loudly. He hasn’t felt super good all day and yet here he was purring back at his normal volume, and for so long too.
Earlier when I was crying he had his sorta soft expression on. Idk if he knows he’s dying or not, but he really is an absolute baby.
I have lost great grandparents and all my grandparents and many animals and even a childhood cat not too long ago, but this is the one, this is the one that hurts.
He has been there with me through the worst times in my life, been very loving, very loyal. He was my shadow so many days, following me everywhere I went, even though I never gave him treats or any such thing. He became my cat and everyone knew it.
For the first time in a very long time I cried in front of someone. I broke in front of my mom when talking. Every funeral we’ve ever attended together, I always tasked myself with being her rock. Idk why, but even when I was young attending that first funeral with her, I said to myself ‘I won’t cry’ and comforted her as best I could. And I have always held to that. Always.
But man I broke. Only once so far, but I might again when it’s time.
I definitely have in private a lot.
He’s my baby, and my whole heart, and it sucks to know he doesn’t feel very well, to see how his personality is different as he conserves energy . He was the strongest cat we ever had, it took multiple people to hold him down sometimes if he needed something. And now he can’t jump anymore. He lets himself be put in the cat carrier so easily. He looks so tired. He’s never meowed much, but the car ride from the vet was entirely silent. It’s going to come very soon.
But he still eagerly looks up for treats, after a week of starving and starving and enduring me syringe feeding him, he finally ate and can maybe feel a little more okay in that way. He’s 14 pounds now. He lost it all so fast.
I really didn’t want him to go out hungry, to go out without being less alone for a bit. The idea of him dying after the overnight vet stay was too much. I wanted him to have a lot of company, since so much leading up to this he was laying off in a corner because we didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know to pick him up and put him with us. So I just had to have him back home for a few more days, or even just one more if it comes to that. I don’t want him to have to endure much pain or anything, but I don’t want him to feel lonely. So we’ll see how long it is before the pain bears down. I think he’s already uncomfortable. It won’t be long.
There’s been times in my life I wasn’t sure I was capable of love. But I love Poe. Idk if time will take that away from me, but I love him very much, and I’m gonna miss him.
I believe fully in God’s timing, I know everything is in His control. No matter how this hurts, I know it has to be this way.  With how unstable things are, maybe this will be the most merciful thing for him, who knows. It’s why I probably won’t get another cat. I am fearful about having my ability to take care of a new animal taken from me, so I can’t risk putting an animal through that. Unless God puts another cat in my life, this is it.
My first and last cat, my most beloved and precious buddy-boy. Who’s been patient and loving beyond what I can expect of an animal, who’s seen me cry many many times in the dead of night .
I love you, Poe
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feralnumberfive · 4 years
Text
I expect no one to read this at all. It’s more of a way to get some feelings off of my chest. This is a look into my personal life and what I went through in 2020. I cried quite a bit while writing this, haha.
My farewell letter to 2020:
To you 2020, the year that shook the world. You’re certainly one to go down in the record books. You changed my life as you did to everyone. To you, the month of March. I had hit the lowest part in my life since the shock of my parent's divorce 11 years ago. My beloved cat had died in October of 2019, a few days short of our one year anniversary of fostering him, which soon turned into us adopting him. It was sudden and unexpected. I still can remember clear as day that horrid call I got from my sister from the vet. “Hey, we need you to come up here. It’s kidney failure.” As she spoke through her tears, I instantly began to cry. I had felt sad for months after that. 
In December of 2019, the adoptive dad of one of my closest friends committed suicide. She was torn apart, having had three people she knew died earlier that year. I stood by her side and watched her cry. We colored together in the counseling room, making small talk and doing anything I could to comfort her. 
From late February into March, another one of my closest friends revealed to me a traumatic experience she went through. She had been raped by a classmate of mine, one who I considered to be good acquaintances. She was a grade younger than me, and was practically completely dependent on me and my friend, as she was too scared to tell her parents. She eventually completely relied on my friend as I became shoved out of the problem. Her story and the amount of support required from her, which she never gave back to me throughout our friendship, made me realize at that moment I had hit rock bottom. I was tired and so sick of it all. This sentence that I'm about to say is one I've never admitted to anyone: I didn't want to be around anymore, or at least alive. I needed somewhere to escape. I didn't want to commit suicide due to expectations I held upon myself. I was also too scared to commit suicide. 
I finally admitted I needed help, which was scary for me to do. In March of you, 2020, I was diagnosed with situational depression. I was soon put on an anti-depressant. It felt good to put a name on it, but little did I know I would pay the price for my relief. Preparing to go off to college, I needed to get a First Class Medical Certificate in order to apply to the flight program at the colloege I wanted to go to. I went and got my FAA Medical Certificate done, ticking off the boxes on my journey to fulfill my life long dream of becoming a pilot. 
Spring Break came and after watching schools around me close, it was announced that we wouldn't be returning until mid April, and then the end of April, then until May. I quickly realized it wasn't possible to return and that unbeknownst to me I had already spent the last days of my Senior year at school in March. A frantic question was suddenly formed amongst my classmates and soon the world: Will the class of 2020 graduate? I, being burnt out, didn't care what would happen to me or my class. We soon became a laughing stock and a sight to pity around the world. Class of 2020, Corona Class, The Class that would be telling this story to their kids. It didn't matter to me. As I held up the “Class of 2020″ shirt my uncle got me with the zeros as tp rolls, I sighed. I just wanted to graduate without getting laughed at. Spoiler Alert: That didn't happen. 
Around this time I ended my friendship with the girl who I cherished but didn't cherish me back. I still to this day can’t exactly understand why I did that. I blocked her and left without saying goodbye. That wasn’t the right thing to do at all. She had been raped and needed support, but here I was leaving her. She always needed and wanted my support but never gave it back. It was always “Aw you have a problem? Here, let’s try this minimal effort plan to help you. That didn’t work? Oh well, let’s get back to me.” This is no excuse at all for my actions of cutting her off. I really still don’t know why I did this. I had hung out with her everyday in the summer of 2019. Here I was, easily letting her go. Jackie, I’m so sorry. I hope you are doing well and get into ISU to follow your dreams of being an engineer. 
In May I received news that still hurts and effects me to this day. I had been denied my Medical Certificate. It wasn't due to me being on an antidepressant, is was due to the fact that I was depressed. This was soul crushing news, but there was still a chance I could reapply for the Medical Certificate if I jumped through multiple hoops. May also provided the announcement that my safe haven in Oshkosh, Wisconsin wouldn't be happening this year. It was definitely understandable due to the virus, but still very saddening to me. It’s really the only thing I look forward to each year, but I understood and agreed on why it was canceled for 2020.
In June I got the news that a beloved teacher of my family and I passed away due to a heart attack and complications of Addison’s Disease. She was the best math teacher I had ever had, and the best in my High School. Math is my worst subject, but she never made me feel stupid like the other math teachers. She always made sure I understood what I was doing. Sometimes when she didn’t feel like having class she would have a free day. She would gossip with my classmates and tell us stories of her youth. Sometimes though she would give us free days due to having intense migraines that sometimes hospitalized her due to her disease. It wasn’t fun to see her like that. 
In June she was hospitalized where even her husband and two kids weren’t allowed in to see her. The only person allowed into her before she died was her twin brother. The family decided to have a public funeral, with tons of people in the community and school district socially distancing and wearing masks to pay their respect. I began to cry as I listened to her husband tell everyone that he wasn't ready and was so scared to be a single parent. Their children were both under ten, and were now motherless. Mrs. Johnson it was so hard saying goodbye to you. I loved you so much, and I still do. You gave my friend who had lost her dad food and comfort. You did so much not only for my family and I, but for everyone in the community and school district. I miss you so much. 
Hot days came with hazy skies. Everyday I checked the wildfire smoke map as I watched the sun turn bright pink as the sun became a blazing red when the sun went down. For weeks our sky looked hazy. Some days looked cloudy, but it was actually smoke. As someone who lives the Midwest, this was quite surprising. 
In August I experienced something that will forever be remembered by me and everyone who lives in my state. A Derecho tore through and ravaged my hometown and the state that I dearly love. We watched through the window as trees snapped in half and branches and leaves whirled around everywhere. We watched through the window as water roared down the road, appearing as if a stream had started right next to us. We watched in fear as shingles were torn off and large items were blown through our yard. As the electricity flickered out, we wondered if we would be crushed by either tree that were on two sides of our house. Wet leaves were torn apart and slammed into our window, where they stayed there for a month afterwards. They looked like confetti, torn into thousands of tiny pieces. 
To the branches and trees I still see today in the neighboring towns and cities, broken reminders of the damage done. To you, the metal grain bins that still sit out in the flattened cornfields. Our once tall and proud cornfields that are a proud symbol of my state were now flattened to the ground, completely parallel to the rich farming soil that it stood in. Painting the countryside in flat waves of green with splotches of silver from grain bins and white from barns and houses damaged. Our proud stalks became damaged goods that costed us billions. To the buildings that still show their battle scars from months ago, the houses with the tarps on their roofs and the old wooden barns that couldn't handle the 140 mph. To you, Donald J, Trump, the President of the United States who was supposed to tour Cedar Rapids to exam the damage that still lies there today. You stayed in the airport and immediately left after getting your business done. You didn't care about us, you were there to do business and leave to start your campaigning.
My small town was able to clean up within a month or so, but even still TODAY the bigger cities are littered with damage. There are tree trunks and branches scattered along roads. Thousands of houses still have tarps on their houses and siding missing. 
In August my grandma was also diagnosed with Dementia. I've watched her deteriorate over the past few months. Every time we call she forgets that I’m not in school. Sometimes she forgets my name. When we tell her we’re on our way to visit outside her window, she forgets within 10 minutes. Grandma, I hope you never forget that I love you.
In September I finally met with a therapist. I am so thankful to be working with her. After months of my family getting angry and upset at me for being scared to go to the store, my therapist diagnosed me with Social Anxiety. I was so relieved to be diagnosed with it and to be working out the issues I have with my therapist. We work together weekly to help me become a better and more comfortable version of myself. 
Over the summer months the health of my already diseased cat took a steep decline. She was my cat, and I felt powerless as I slowly watched her die. She could no longer stay inside due to her having constant accidents. As we made our plan to take her to the vet to give her a peaceful death, I received a heartbreaking call from my mother on a cold September night. My little Jill had passed away in her sleep on our porch. I came over to say goodbye to my baby as I pet her cold fur one last time. I love you my little Jilly Bean and I miss you everyday. I miss and love you so so so much. 
September also brought the news that a precious B-25 had a crash landing. It always hurts to hear about a Warbird crashing or getting damaged. I was happy to hear though that they were going to fix it back to airworthiness.
In October I had to make a difficult decision with the FAA. Do I try to visit four different doctors for phycological examinations in order to complete my Medical Certificate or do I wait to get off my medicine and start feeling better on my own? I opted for the second part due to the decline of visiting all of those doctors coming up in November. We had been given that option early in the year, but Covid prevented us from traveling out of state to see those doctors. I sent a letter to the FAA to let them know what I was doing. I received a letter about a month ago that stated that I still needed to visit those doctors or something like that. I honestly didn’t look through it that well because it’s just such a pain in the butt.
Another thing about you 2020 is that you provided me with he opportunity to meet amazing people. I began to watch The Umbrella Academy in September, but I decided to make my account on October 1st. I’ve met tons of funny and talented people on here. The show itself had provided me tons of comfort. It has given me the courage to start writing fanfiction for it along with starting back up on drawing fanart
The end of 2020 has slowed down for me. One of my aviation heroes died this year, Mr. Chuck Yeager. It was heartbreaking for me to hear that. One of the worst days for me was ironically on my birthday in December. I felt really bitter and down and just wanted to sit in my room, but I didn’t. I don’t like celebrating my birthday anymore. As I get older it feels less and less special and in turn I feel sad about it. Another reason why is that I don’t like having a fuss made about it. I don’t like the attention from it haha. It’s okay though because even though this year I felt upset I eventually felt a bit happier as it turned to night. 
This year I witnessed history being made. Let me be clear that history is made every year, but this year was very eventful. I witnessed innocent black lives being slaughtered by the very people who are sworn to protect everyone. It’s so disappointing and soul crushing to see all of this. I don’t know if I’ve made it clear on here, but I strongly stand with the BLM movement. I may not understand what they haven been going through for decades, but I stand with them to make things right. Black Lives Matter, not All Lives. All Lives only matter when it’s actually true and Black Lives are included. If you saw a house on fire in an entire block of houses, you wouldn’t say “All Houses Matter!” No they don’t, that house on fire matters. Black Lives Fucking Matter, and All Cops Are Bastards.
To you, the Pledge of Allegiance. Everyday in elementary school I proudly held my right hand over my heart as I stared up at Old Glory and recited you. This year helped me realize that “With liberty and justice for all.” is total bullshit. The only thing I truly appreciate about my country now is the scenery and nature it provides. 
To you 2020, as I finish writing this letter on December 31st. You’ve made me cry a lot, including right now. You’ve deeply effected my life and brought me lots of sorrow. Despite all of this, I don't feel upset about you. Yes, you gave me some events that will always haunt me but that’s okay. 2020 even though you’ve hurt me, you’ve also shaped me. Yes, you also made my lose faith in my country and humanity, but I can only hope for the best. You’ve pushed me to become a better version of myself. 
So to you 2020, you’ve been a hell of a year. I’ve hated and loved you, but mostly hated you. I went through some shit, but others have gone through worse this year. To those of you who have had a very hard time this year, I love you. I sincerely hope things get better for you. Friend or stranger, you can always rely on me as someone to talk to, to rant or vent to, and to cry to. This year was excruciating, but don’t give up. It has ended and a new year has begun. Sure 2021 may also be bad and we’re all exhausted from 2020, but let’s fight till the end. 
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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years
Text
You’re my best friend; John Deacon x reader
*Author’s note*
Okay wow I can’t believe I almost missed this deadline but I had this story already up on my Wattpad for the past 2 months so I wanted to transfer it once this deadline came. This is for @writing-of-a-british-bitch​‘s 1k challenge and I asked to do the “Your my best friend” song choice. 
Now some things had transpired between joining this contest and the time I decided to write it and I really needed to get this pain out. As some of you may know from a post over 2 months ago, I lost my baby black kitty Sassy to Kidney failure. And I realize this was meant to be a fluff fic but I couldn’t help but really write this fic in memory of my baby girl. So some fluff and angst but sadly mostly angst is in this fic. So I apologize if I kinda went back on my word Phoebe but I hope this is still okay for your contest.
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Taglist:
@plethora-of-things​
@waddles03​
@psychosupernatural​
@ixchel-9275​
@queendeakyy​
@simonedk​
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​
@kairosfreddie​
@dancingcoolcat​
@geek-and-proud​
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Kidney Failure. Those are two words that no pet owner wants to hear. My beautiful baby girl Sassy had officially been diagnosed with Kidney failure as well as Kidney stones. At first with her not eating I thought she was just being a little stubborn, then after doing some scary research on why senior cats won't eat, it showed signs of her dying. Then after seeing her cough up some blood early one morning before I wanted to go see a movie, I was told by my parents to take her straight to the vet.
And since I was dealing with this all alone, I was forced to be told by myself and suffer for a full day of the news of my precious black kitty. I had gotten her 15 years ago shortly after my first cat Missy died. She was rescued by an independent rescue woman who had a house full of cats, out of thousands of cats she had, a small, tiny and very skittish kitten stood out of all the rest. Even though at the time my mom wanted a white cat with blue eyes and pink ears, we fell in love with this cute little girl, and I named her Sassy after the cat from Homeward Bound.
For years she was always the skittish girl. Anytime a doorbell would ring, she'd rush out and hide all day. But she was the sweetest cat anyone could ask for. I would always bring her up into my room whenever things got too stressful in my life, or I just wanted to be with her. I'd put her on my bed and just let her sleep there for all hours of the day.
As time went on, she even came to my own rescue like when I got my wisdom teeth removed and I had to recover up in my room. The first night, Sassy had actually came up into my room willingly, hopped right on my bed and slept right beside me for about 3 hours. She's my baby and now she's suffering the same fate my male cat did just several years ago.
My girl's always been the one with health problems throughout her life. First it was the UTI's, then bladder stones, and now she has to take some pills for her thyroid for the rest of her life (she's been on the thyroid pills for roughly about 3 years now), but this—this just blows everything out the window cause now it's evident that she's possibly coming close to the end of her days.
The vet told me what all needed to happen, a couple days of IV to get her fully hydrated, some anti-biotics, and just keeping her as comfortable as possible. So she went through the two days of IV, she's currently on the antibiotic and just has 3 more days to take it while still taking her thyroid pills (I now had to resort to giving it to her liquidly through a syringe since she no longer does the pill pockets anymore).
I don't wanna lose my baby girl. She's my life, my baby, my best friend and I—I don't know what I'm gonna do when the time comes for her when she finally.....
"(Y/n)?" I looked up and there was my dad.
"Hey dad."
"Sweetie, how are you doing? Really?" he said as he came into my room and sat down by my bed.
"I—I'm scared dad. I don't wanna lose my girl. On top with all the stress of trying to find a job, I just can't even focus on anything else but my baby girl."
"I know, I know sweetie." He brought me closer for a hug and I allowed the tears to softly fall down my face. "Maybe—you should get out of the house. Go see those friends of yours, isn't that offer for you to join them at the farm still available?"
"But dad I don't wanna leave Sassy behind. What if she dies while I'm away? That's already what happened to both Hudson and Missy because of school. And I promised that if it ever came Sassy's time I wouldn't allow anything to keep me away from her."
"But if you just solely keep focused on her, you're only gonna make yourself sick. What you need now is time to yourself, spend it with your friends, maybe they can help you out. Maybe even John can help you see. Cause at this rate I feel like you'll only listen to that boyfriend of yours." I softly chuckled as he did to.
"I think I'll just surprise them. They always drop by unannounced at my place either way." He chuckled and said.
"Whatever you want to do. I will watch Sassy for you and make sure she's comfortable. And I promise you if anything does happen, I'll give you a call."
"Thanks dad. I'm glad you came back early."
"Of course. Sassy's important to all of us." I nodded. "You get some sleep now okay sweetie, you've got a long drive ahead of you." I nodded again as my dad kissed the top of my head and gave me a big bear hug.
Once he left my room after shutting my door, I lay there on my bed and allowed the tears to continue to fall as I silently cried myself to sleep.
A few hours later I was on the open road heading towards Rockfield farm where my friends and boyfriend John Deacon. Oh yeah I forgot to mention, John Deacon of Queen is my long time boyfriend. We got together roughly at around Year 10 of secondary school, and even though we ended up going to different colleges, we still kept close to each other with visits and holiday stuff.
In fact, I was the one who convinced him to try out for Queen since I had Freddie Mercury in an art class of mine. And he just decided to take me in as his best friend since we both loved cats (the first time I showed him a picture of my two furbabies he was hooked and wanted to know everything about them).
So I introduced John to the band when Fred told me they needed a new bassist, he auditioned and—the rest was history. As mentioned earlier they were currently at Rockfield farm studios recording their next album 'A Night at the Opera'. Deacy had offered the chance for me to tag along as moral support/citizen critic but when I told him that I was worried about Sassy, he understood but kept the offer open in case I changed my mind.
After what felt like an eternity of driving I finally arrived at the farm just a little bit after 10:30am. I parked the car right next to a blue beetle and got out of my car after shutting off the engine. I looked around the place and saw that it was definitely far out of civilization and distractions, maybe this could be what I needed.
"(Y/n)?" I heard a voice say. I turned around and wearing a pink woman's top and white pants holding a cigarette between his fingers was none other than Freddie Mercury.
"Hey Fred."
"Oh darling it's been so long come here!" I walked over to him as he tossed the cigarette aside into the gravel and extended his arms out. I was then given the biggest bear hug that Freddie is known to give. "Why didn't you tell us we were coming?"
"Figured I surprise you all. You're not pissed are you?"
"Absolutely not dear, a visit from you is like seeing an angel grace our presence. And maybe this time Deacy can pick up the slack." I softly giggled as we separated from each other. "So how are things at home? Deacy said poor Sassy was feeling under the weather, how is the little dear?" at that point I grew sad again. "(Y/n)? Dear was it something I said?"
"Freddie I—the reason I came here was because of Sassy. She's—not doing so good." At that point his face grew worried.
"Come darling, let's sit on the porch swing and talk. You look like you're about to burst into tears." He wrapped an arm around me as we walked towards the front porch of the house and sat down on the cushioned porch swing. Freddie sat to my left and said, "Now then darling, tell me everything." I took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him.
"Last Sunday Mary and I were planning on going to see a movie, but as I was getting around I had seen Sassy laying near where she had just spit up, but what scared me was that there was blood mixed with the phlegm that she had puked up. So I called Mary and told her I had to take her to the vet, they ran some tests on her and......" I sniffled and felt the tears starting to come back. "Freddie she's suffering from kidney failure." He gasped in horror as he covered his mouth with his hand.
"Oh my god......(y/n) I—I'm so sorry dear. Oh come here you." He brought me close into his chest and tears once again began to fall down my face. "Oh my poor dear, I can't imagine what you must be feeling. If it were one of my darlings, I'd be feeling just as heartbroken as you. How—how long has she got?"
"Well thankfully the doctor said if we just keep an eye on her. Cause she's still drinking water, going to the bathroom, and eating when she wants to she could live a little while longer. But Freddie—she's 6lbs now and every time you hold her—you can just feel her bones. It's like picking up a stuffed animal at this point."
"Oh the poor little darling. Does she still walk?"
"Yeah she can still walk, but she—she drags her back legs or stumbles around before just giving up. We're trying to keep her on the main level of our house trying to limit the amount of times of her going either up or down the stairs. Sometimes she'll eat twice a day, sometimes it'll take her well over 24 hours before she eats again."
"Okay. So what all have you done for her?"
"Well she had to do 2 days of IV to get her rehydrated. Now she's on an antibiotic for the next ten days, she'll be done with it in three days so my dad's gonna finish it all off. He said I needed a break from all the stress cause along with her being sick and me struggling to find a job, I've barely been able to keep myself together."
"Your dad's a smart man. Cause dear no offense but you really look like shit."
"Gee thanks Freddie." I sassed back sarcastically.
"Now, now I don't mean any offense by it. I'm just—"
"I know what you mean Fred. Its just—I don't wanna lose my baby girl. I know she's getting older hell she's 16 years old. But I—I don't wanna lose my baby just yet. Not when my life is fully about to begin."
"I know darling, I know." He comforted me as he rubbed my back. I felt him kiss the crown of my head. "Listen to me, okay? You gave that beautiful black cat the best 16 years of her life. And who knows maybe she'll tough it out and stick with you for another 3 years. She knows you love her, and knows that you are doing everything to take care of her."
"You truly are the cat guru Freddie."
"Well comes with experience. But I've seen for myself the love you've given that precious thing. And, god forbid, when the day does come for her to move on, she'll have you to thank for being the best mummy cat she's ever had. And loved her even with her being the skittish thing that she was. Cause other than you, I would've been the only one to see the potential in her."
"Yeah she was a precious thing when I saw her and briefly got to play with her when she was just a kitten." Freddie wiped my tears away with the sleeve of his shirt and he asked me.
"Feeling any better?"
"A little. Thanks Freddie. It takes a cat parent to understand just what I'm going through."
"I'm always here for you dear. And hey, just so you know, my furbabies are your furbabies. They love you just as much as your own do, so anytime you need to come over, they'll be happy to see you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Shall I get Deacy?"
"Actually I would like to come in, I've been driving since 1am this morning and I could really use a bed right now."
"Or is it just so you and Deacy can—"
"Get your mind out of the gutter you rotter!" he chuckled and said.
"Of course dear, come in come in I'll grab your bags." I went to protest but he stopped me, "No darling I will not take no for an answer." He grabbed my suitcases and we entered inside the house.
It was a charming little house of sorts with old knick-knacks, pictures whether painted or old photographs, and completely wooded interior. Kinda reminded me of my grandparent's place a little bit, a true country home.
"My darlings, we've got a surprise visitor with us to—" Freddie announced as we came into the kitchen. "Oh fuck seriously Roger? I thought I heard a crash but never did I think you'd go that far."
"What else do you expect Fred? Brian said my song wasn't strong enough so I figured I'd show him if this was strong enough!!"
"Perhaps I shouldn't have come after all." I made myself known. At that point Deacy popped right out of his seat and rushed right over towards me and embraced me. I hugged him back and buried my face into his neck. God every time I got a hug from the love of my life, I was already happy and at home with him.
"Why didn't you call and tell me you were coming?"
"And miss the surprise look on your face? I don't think so." He chuckled before separating from me to cup the side of my face. I felt his calloused thumb stroke my cheek gingerly and he placed a soft kiss to my brow.
"Ugh it's too early for you guys to act all lovie-dovie!" Roger complained.
"Oh put a sock in it Rog!" I sassed at him.
"It really is good to see you here (y/n). so what brought on this surprise visit?" asked Brian. My smile dropped and I solemnly looked down.
"My love?" Deacy asked concerned.
"Deacy dear why don't you take (y/n) downstairs to your room and get her situated. She could really use some sleep right now, then come back up and I'll explain everything." Freddie set my stuff down and went up to Brian and Roger and wrapped his arms around their shoulders to guide them out of the kitchen.
"What's he talking about love?"
"It's—the reason why I'm here isn't a happy reason. I wish it was but I—"
"Okay, okay, okay relax. Calm down my love. Come on let's go downstairs, though I must warn you the room isn't very big."
"I'll take whatever it is Johnny." He grabbed my suitcases as wrapped an arm around me as he guided me towards the basement stairs.
And boy was he ever right. How could my beloved possible sleep in a room this cramped, not to mention cold? He set my stuff right by his before guiding me to the bed. He sat down close to me and said.
"Do you want to tell me? Or should I go up to see Freddie?"
"I—I can tell you."
"You sure?" I nodded. "Alright, if you say so. But before you speak, take a couple of deep breaths with me, okay?" he slowly breathed in and I followed behind him. We held our breath for three seconds before slowly exhaling out for five. We did this together over and over and over again till finally I was ready to tell him, and I told him everything in regard to Sassy.
As I explained everything, every now and then I would stop because I could feel tears springing in my eyes. Jesus just when I thought I had cried my last tear, they still keep coming. But my sweet, loving John had tissues at the ready and he would hand me one to wipe my face, before sitting himself even closer to me resting his head on top of mine while his arms were wrapped around me rubbing either my back or arms comfortingly.
"Oh my love. You should've called me as soon as you were told the news. You know I would've dropped everything just to be with you, to comfort you through this." He said once I had finished telling him everything.
"I didn't want to disturb you John. This album is really important to Queen and I—didn't want to distract you."
"Fuck the album, you're my first priority."
"John."
"I mean it (y/n). if you ever asked me to leave the band I will."
"You know I would never ask that of you."
"I know, I'm just saying I would. I just—I just hate the fact that I had to let you get the news alone. I knew your dad left to spend time with your mum for their anniversary together which left you to take care of Sassy and Phoebe, and to get such news all on your own." He kissed my cheek and softly stroked my cheek.
"Why are you so good to me?"
"Your my best friend, (y/n). I'll always be good to you." He leaned in and captured my lips in a soft kiss. I cupped the side of his face before separating from him and pressing my forehead to his while I felt his nose graze against mine.
I then wrapped my arms around his neck while I felt his arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me close to him so that I practically sitting on his lap. I felt his hand rub comforting circles on my back before slowly leaning back. The slightly rickety bed creaked and it was definitely a tight squeeze, but we somehow made it work with me practically lying on top of him, our legs tangled up with each other's and my head resting against his chest.
"God how did you manage to sleep on this tiny bed?" I asked.
"Trust me it's not easy. But somehow I've managed."
"The boys didn't boot you down here did they?"
"No, Paul actually gave me this room. Said that small ones don't get nearly as cold."
"Aww Deacy I'm so sorry." I cupped his jawline to which he nuzzled against my hand and gave my palm a kiss.
"Not your fault. But how are you, really (y/n)."
"Truthfully my head is literally killing me."
"Probably from dehydration from all the crying you must've been doing." He said as I felt him stroke down my hair. He kissed my forehead and set me down on the bed. "I'll get you some water and snacks for you. Gotta get you rehydrated and eating again." He pecked my nose and I smiled at him.
"Thank you Johnny."
"Anytime my love. Stay here, I'll be right back." He brushed the hair out of my face before giving me a soft peck before heading upstairs. I sighed and rested my head onto the pillows and inhaled John's scent from his shampoo that I had bought for him. It gave me a sense of comfort even while he was gone for a brief moment.
He came back down with a bottle of water and a couple bags of crisps.
"You really went all out didn't you?" I teased.
"Well if I know you, I know that when you get really sad, you tend to skip meals. And I know this isn't really the best thing for you to eat right now, but it's all we've got since Roger knocked down the leftovers bitching about his car song."
"His car song?"
"It's better if you don't ask." He sat down on the floor beside me and laid out the bags of crisps then unscrewed the bottle cap of water before placing the straw in. He held it out to me and I took a sip of it. After taking a long drink, he set it down on the nightstand right beside the bed and opened up one of the bags of crisps and proceeded to feed me.
"I can feed myself you know."
"I know, but you've been under a lot of pressure lately. With the unsuccessful job hunts as well as Sassy being sick, the least I can do is pamper you my darling. Now c'mon open up." He guided a potato crisp towards my mouth and I opened my mouth as he popped it inside my mouth.
Deacy kept on feeding me as well as giving me sips of water. Finally after feeling full from the crisps, he set them aside and crawled back into the bed with me.
"Wait, don't you have some recording to do?"
"I talked to the guys about it, I'm gonna stay here and take care of my baby today."
"No Deacy I—I'll just delay your schedule......"
"It's already said and done love, besides Freddie insisted that I stay with you. I can make up my bits tomorrow." I looked up at him and said.
"Thank you Deacy, it—this means a lot. Really, with Sassy being—"
"Shhhh, shhh. Just sleep my love. You really need it." He whispered as he gingerly stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. I closed my eyes and cuddled close to him, his hand tucked underneath my shirt and I felt his nails gently stroke up and down my back comfortingly. The mixture of his scent, his breathing and his heartbeat was like a lullaby that soothed me to sleep.
A week later, I was starting to feel a bit better than I had back at home. Deacy and the boys provided the perfect distraction, Freddie gave me a mini piano lesson as he was practicing his latest masterpiece that he deemed was going to change music forever, Brian and I would take pictures of the guys whether for his scrapbooking or just out of plain goofiness, and Roger—well Roger spent three days in a cupboard but at least he was still willing to talk to me even through the cupboard.
And of course Deacy was an angel with the warm cuddles and bass playing. I've always found comfort in seeing him play the bass, he was in his element and it was amazing to see him break out of the shy exterior and just be him. I was laying on the couch in the studio and he was fiddling around with his bass.
"Can you play me something?" I asked. He looked up and he asked.
"What would you like me to play? Liar? White Queen?"
"Do you think you can give me a sneak peek at a song from this album?"
"Well legally I'm not allowed to but....off the record if there were no Prenter nor sound engineer to be around." He stated as he got up and went over to the sound station and flipped a couple of switches.
"You clever, devious man." I giggled.
"That's why you love me. C'mere." I got up from the couch and went up to the chair he was now sitting at. He extended his hand as I got closer to him and I took his hand. He then had me sit down on his lap and I felt his arm wrap around my waist. "This was finished the night before you came to the farm. I.....I had you in mind when I was writing it."
"Oh god Deacy please tell me it's nothing like Misfire was."
"No not this time. I promise, and in a way....you can think of this song as yours and Sassy's song." He turned on the switch and soon playing through the speakers was an electric sounding instrument. "That's me on the electric piano."
"Really?"
"Yeah, Fred wanted absolutely no part of it so I sat down all night learning how to play it so that I could have it ready for recording." I awed at him and he gave me a peck to my temple and I soon heard the magnificent vocalizations of all four of my boys singing at once, their voices backtracked by their own voices making it sound like there was an entire choir backing them up.  Freddie's god-like voice singing the gentle melody of the words.
"What's it called?"
"You're my best friend." He lay my head on his shoulder and the two of us listened to the song together. I'll admit the lyrics did fit Sassy to a T. She has been there for me before in the past and she was always the one I turned to when things got rough and no one else was there for me.
When the song finally ended, I turned to John and hugged him, my arms wrapped around his neck.
"That is literally the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you John."
"I'm glad you liked it love."
"Like? Deacy 'like' doesn't even begin to describe what this song meant to me. You and Sassy are both my best friends."
"And I'm happy to share you, even if it is with a feline." I giggled and playfully nudged his shoulder which made him chuckle. "God I've really missed seeing you smile."
"What are you talking about? I've been smiling the whole time I was here."
"Oh you mean the ones that don't reach up to your eyes, the smiles that don't make your eyes twinkle and a laugh come out of that beautiful mouth of yours. Yeah those were real smiles." He sassed sarcastically.
"Okay smartass. Maybe I've—still been depressed about not being with my girl."
"And there's nothing wrong with missing her. But you also need to learn to take care of yourself as well. You looked absolutely exhausted when you first arrived, it was like you'd hardly slept a wink." I looked down shamefully. "I just want you to realize that in order for you to be there for Sassy, you also need to learn to take care of yourself. Do you understand what I'm trying to say my love?"
"Yes Deacy, I understand. I'm sorry."
"Hey, you've got no reason to be sorry. You caring about Sassy this much proves that you're a good cat mum. And maybe in the future, you'll be the same way with our own child." I smiled through a choked sob. I buried my face into John's neck as I felt his hand go underneath my shirt and once again stroking my bare skin sending comforting shivers up my back.
"I love you so much John Deacon."
"I love you so much too (y/n) (l/n)." I looked up at him and he smiled down at me softly and kissed the center of my forehead, the tip of my nose, both cheeks then finally a soft and loving kiss to my lips. "Besides, I always knew one surefire way to get that beautiful smile on your face." Oh shit.
I immediately got off his lap and went back to the couch and held the pillow out in front of me.
"Why ever did you flee from me my love?" he asked in a mocked hurt tone.
"Not another step Deacon. I know what your method is and you're not doing it."
"Whatever do you mean?" oh that little rotter he was taunting me.
"Don't make me say it Deacy!" I begged as I buried my body into the covers leaving only my head to the outside world.
"Well you're gonna have to cause all I'm doing is walking towards you and all you're doing is trying to hide yourself under the blankets and pillows." He continued to taunt as he now hovered over me, his body pinning mine to the couch.
"Deacy no!" I whined.
"No what?"
"Deacy!"
"You're gonna have to specify what I can't do my darling." He cupped the side of my face after tucking some hair behind my ear and captured my lips in a seductive kiss. He almost had me under his spell, that was until I felt him squeeze my sides through the blanket. I squealed and tried to buck him off me but he stayed on top of me. "My, my, my, what have we here?"
"John I swear to god I'll kill you if you do it."
"Do what? All I did was just graze your sides and you just reacted to it. Now what do they call that thing again when people get so sensitive to a light touch?" he pondered.
My god this little shit was good. He was trying to force me to say it.
"John please!" I begged to him with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.
"Aww look at you pleading and begging with those eyes, it's so adorable. But it won't stop me. Now answer my question." I felt him squeeze my sides again and I let out a soft shrieked laugh. "God if I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't want me to......"
"Tickle me!" I blurted out.
"What a wonderful idea! You always were terribly ticklish." I then pushed him off of me and decked out of the recording studio and began racing around the barn.
I went inside the barn and tried to duck through or go around any beams I could find.
"You're not going to escape from me (n/n). You know you were always the slowest runner."
"Shut up Deacon! It's cause you always cheated with those long legs of yours!" I snapped as I ducked through the hay storage bin before getting out on the other side.
Deacy continued to chase after me for what felt like forever. And I don't know when they became involved or why they chose to do it, but somehow Roger and Freddie got involved with the chase and I was soon tackled out in the field by Roger and he was the first to start tickling me before Freddie then finally my boyfriend Deacy joined in the attack.
The three of them tickling me non-stop till I was red in the face and could barely breathe. Fred and Rog would've gone on forever had John not stopped them and forced them to let me breathe. Once I was able to catch my breath, I turned towards the two troublemakers and said.
"Where.....in the hell.....did you two.....come from?"
"From London." Freddie bluntly shrugged.
"I know that smartass. I meant during the chase." I groaned.
"Oh that well when we saw Deacy chasing you, Fred and I just want in on the action. It didn't matter what we had to do, just as long as it got you to smile kid." Roger said as he gave my hair a ruffle, messing it up.
"Roger! Rog you're messing up my hair!" I said as I tried to get his hand off my head but he would keep putting it back on top and messing my hair up even further.
"But you've got to admit darling, we did get you to smile that fabulous smile that can only be compared to Mary's." said Freddie as he wrapped an arm around me. "Plus didn't that help you just a little bit?"
"Yeah I guess so. Thanks guys, for real this week has—literally been a life saver. I think I'm ready to head back home tomorrow."
"What so soon? But darling we were just having so much fun!" whined Freddie as he brought me close to his chest.
"Plus you help lessen the stress that Prenter causes us." Said Rog.
"And the stress we cause each other. You sure you can't stay a bit longer?"
"Sorry Deacy, I gotta get back to my girl." He rubbed my back and said.
"Okay. Just—promise to call me in case anything happens. You know I'll gladly drop things here to be with you." I cupped the side of his face and stared at him lovingly.
"I'll even allow us to take time off the album so that all of us can be there for you darling." Fred said I turned towards him and Roger and saw that Roger nodded agreeing with both Fred and Deacy.
"You guys—how did I ever get lucky to have such good friends like you all?"
"You've honestly been a blessing to us dear. Never doubt that." Soon I was in a group hug with the front man, the drummer and the bassist of Queen.
The next morning I was all packed up and was hugging the guys goodbye and thanking them for helping me out this past week. I had just gotten done hugging Rog and Bri and I was now at Freddie. He smiled at me and embraced me tightly and he said in my ear.
"You be sure to call us with any updates Sassy's got."
"I will I promise." He separated from me and kissed both my cheeks.
"Drive safe (y/n) dear."
"Will do Fred." I then turned towards the love of my life, my best friend. He held his arms out and I immediately went into them and hugged him back.
"I'm so glad that you came to visit love. Drive safely back home, and call me whenever you get there."
"I will, promise me you'll continue to work hard on the album."
"Will do love." He kissed me but it was shortly interrupted by Prenter exclaiming.
"Enough of this already the boys need to get back to work!"
"Alright Prenter that's it come here!" Roger then charged after Prenter which made John and I laugh softly.
"Should we try to stop him?" I asked.
"Nah, let him take his prey. Besides he deserves it, Prenter's an arsehole anyway." He kissed my temple softly before hugging me one last time. I got into my car and waved goodbye to the guys one last time before taking off back down towards the main road.
Three days later after returning from the farm, I was back at home just waking up for the day. I once again saw Sassy lying there on the couch just like she was last night. I sighed and went up to Sassy and pet her and she shot her head up and looked at me.
"Hey baby girl, ready for your medicine?" she just looked at me before laying her head down. I went over to the sink and prepped the water bottle cap (at this point she had stopped taking the pill pockets, and since I could no longer force it down her, I resorted to liquidating the ¼ pill).
After waiting a couple of minutes I sucked the water into a syringe and walked back over to the couch. Gently as I could, I picked her up and she let out a weak meow.
"I know baby, I know. But this is just the water one this time. You got done with the antibiotic awhile ago." I placed the syringe into her mouth and she weakly opened her mouth but was still able to take in the water. Once she took it all in, I kissed her and took her over to the water bowl cause I knew she probably drink any water since last night. "Here we go baby, drink up."
I gently set her down and she merely just lay there for a moment before realizing where she was. Her head shot up and she reached her paw over the water bowl like how she normally drinks and went face first into the water, her usual way of drinking water.
Once she had her fill after lying down a few times before going back up again to drink some more. I picked her up once more and set her back down on the couch. Since it was a sunny day for the first time in a while, I decided to let my girl sunbathe, her favorite thing to do whenever the sun was out.
"Here you go little mama." I cooed as I stroked her head and kissed it. I then went back upstairs and got ready for the day. The phone rang and I picked it up and answered, "Hello?"
'Hey sweetie. Whatcha doin?' it was my dad's voice.
"Oh just—getting around and all that."
'Ahh I see. How's our girl doing?'
"She's....hanging in there." I looked towards her to see her still breathing.
'Okay good, good. So what have you got on the agenda for today?'
"Well Mikaela is coming to pick me up and we're gonna hang out for my graduation/pre b-day plans."
'Ahh I see, what time is she coming over?'
"About 10ish."
'Okay well you girls have fun and I will talk at you later okay?'
"Okay daddy, love you."
'Love you too sweetie, bye.'
"Bye." I hung up the phone and turned back towards my baby. I walked up to her and as I touched her, her paws twitched and she turned and looked up at me. "I love you so much baby girl." I kissed her head and she turned away from me. With a heavy sigh, I walked back upstairs and got around.
A couple minutes later at 10:07am I walked back downstairs to see Phoebe sitting up on the table looking at Sassy's food bowl that was there.
"Phoebe get down!" I snapped at her. She meowed as she hopped down and ran off. That's when I looked down to see the most horrifying sight I would ever see in my life.
Sassy's eyes were glazed over, and I couldn't see her breathing anymore.
"Sassy? Sassy? Sassy!" I touched her fur hoping to see her react but when he jaw went slacked, tears sprung in my eyes and I fell to my knees. I picked her up in my arms and held her close to me as I sobbed. "Sassy! No! No! No! Sassy please no!" I sobbed as I paced around the room hoping that she would wake up but all she did was lay limp against my shoulder. I placed her down on the loveseat to see if she would breathe again but she didn't.
Sassy was gone.
I ran up to the phone and dialed my dad's number and pleaded softly that he would pick up.
'Hello?' he asked.
"Daddy."
'Yeah?' his voice sounded concerned as soon as he heard the heartbreak in my voice.
"I think Sassy's dead!" I sobbed out.
'Oh my god our cat just died.'
"She was fine earlier as I said. She drank some water but when I came back downstairs I noticed that she's no longer breathing, her eyes are glazed over and she's just limp every time I hold her!"
'Okay, okay (y/n) calm down okay sweetie. Calm down. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to get her cat carrier and a towel.'
"Okay."
'Okay? Then put the towel in the cat carrier and then I want you to gently put her in and take her to the vet, okay? They'll work out the cremation process.'
"Okay."
'And sweetie listen to me. At least she died at home, okay? She passed away peacefully, safe and at home instead of a cold, strange metal table. Because I had to go through that with Hudson and it was not a pretty sight. It broke me, but you gave Sassy a happy life and even with you taking care of her on your own for a while she knew you loved her.' I choked out a sob and nodded.
"I know."
'Okay but go take her to the vet, I'll call your mom and she'll get in touch with the vet.' I nodded.
"Okay I'll take her to the vet."
'Okay now your mom will be available all day for you if you need to get in touch with her. I've got a meeting to get to in the next while. But call your mom anytime you need to talk.'
"Okay."
'Okay I love you sweetheart, it's gonna be okay. At least she's not suffering anymore and that she's now at peace.'
"Yeah."
'Alright sweetie, I love you so much.'
"I love you too."
'Bye.'
"Bye." I hung up the phone and proceeded to get her ready to take her to the vet one last time. I grabbed a towel from my bathroom and tucked it in her cat carrier. I looked down at my baby with tears pouring down my face. Once I got her in the cat carrier on her side, I quickly wrote a note for Mikaela and taped it to the door before finally rushing out to my car and race towards the vet.
When I got there, I stood there waiting for what felt like forever in the small vet clinic till finally one of the vet techs came in. She walked over to me, empathy in her eyes and she said.
"Your mum called and told us what happened. We'll get started with the cremation process, are there any questions you have for us?"
"Just.....just make sure that this is for real. I—don't wanna try anything unless I know it's for real."
"Okay." She took my cat carrier and walked into the back room. I sat down by the window trying to calm myself down. The doors opened and there stood my best friend Mikaela.
"Hey I got your message, are you okay?"
"I don't know dude. Thank god you're here though."
"Of course, of course." She sat down beside me and wrapped an arm around me. It was then the vet came in from the back room and he greeted me.
"She has passed away. Along with the kidney stones and failure, she also suffered a stroke." I covered my mouth with my hand and allowed the tears to pour down my face even more. "We can prep the cremation. Would you like the pawprint as well as her ashes or just the pawprint?"
"Just the pawprint." I replied.
"Okay, before we take her away would you like to see her?" I turned to Mikaela before turning back to the vet and said.
"Yes."
"Okay. Come back with me." I followed behind him and Mikaela told me she'd wait outside. I went through the back door and right there on the table I saw my baby girl lying right on her stomach, her front paws extended outwards and her eyes still glassed over, her fangs exposed as her jaw was still slightly lacked.
"Take all the time you need." the vet told me as one of the technicians came and covered up just her lower body. I nodded before leaning down and pet her one last time, trying to imprint her soft fur into my hand, and my memory.
"At least she died at home, where she was most happiest." Said one of the female vet technicians.
"Yeah. She—she was sunbathing on the couch. She always loved it when the sun was out and I would open up the blinds."
"Yeah. I'll bet she really appreciated it."
"It just—with all the health problems she's had throughout her life I just hoped that....."
"I understand. Especially with all that she had been through for the past week." I nodded before turning back to my baby girl. I knelt down and gave her one final kiss before finally saying.
"Okay. Okay I—I think I'm ready." Then another vet tech came up and fully covered up my baby girl forever, the final step in pronouncing her dead.
"We'll get in contact with your mom about the billing. Again we're so sorry for your loss." The same vet tech that I was talking to earlier about my baby girl.
"Thank you." I said thanks the vet techs as well as the vet for all that they've done for Sassy for her last 2 weeks of life. I walked out of the back room and Mikaela came up and hugged me as we left the vet.
When I got back home I called my mom and told her that she could take care of the billing. After that I said.
"I'm sorry about all this dude I know we had plans and all but—"
"No, no, no, no it's fine. Do—you wanna call John and tell him? Or do you want me to talk for you?"
"I think I can tell him. He loved Sassy as much as I did." I picked the phone up once more and dialed the number for the farm that Deacy gave me before they left. It rang about five times before I heard a voice say.
'Hello?' Oh god why did it have to be him?
"Paul. Can I speak to John please?"
'Oh (y/n) I'm afraid he's too busy to talk right now. Since you distracted the guys they're way behind schedule with the album. They have to work twice as long just to meet the upcoming deadline.'
'Oi Prenter why are you answering the phone!? Thought I told you that you weren't allowed to take calls anymore!' Roger's loud voice proclaimed. I then heard the signs of a struggle and Paul's painful cry as Roger's voice spoke up. 'Talk to me.'
"Rog."
'(Y/n), hey what's going on?'
"Is Deacy too busy to talk?"
'Oh absolutely not, hang on a second love okay? OI DEACY!!! YOUR GIRL'S ON THE LINE COME OVER HERE!' Once again there was silence before I heard John's voice at last.
'(Y/n)? What's going on love is everything okay?' my lip quivered as I gasped out a sob. '(Y/n)? Love you're scaring me.'
"She's gone Deacy." I choked out.
'Oh my god. (N/n) I—I'm so sorry. Was she—'
"On the couch in the sun. It was almost an hour ago."
'Jesus Christ. But (y/n) you were there for her like you always said you wanted to be, and she's no longer in any pain, she's at peace. And she's up in heaven with her brother and meeting her older sister. The cat you had before you got her.'
"I know. I'm—I'm sorry I'm distracting you—"
'No, no, no, no, no, no love shhh, shhh, shshshsh. You are by no means a distraction. I'm glad you called me (y/n). I wish I could be there with you right now holding you in my arms.'
"I want that too Deacy."
'Are you going to get the pawprint?'
"Yeah, it should be ready in a day or two."
'That's good. I love you so much my brave mama cat, you know that right?'
"I love you too. I just—wish you were here John."
'I know. I wish I was there too. Is anyone with you right now?'
"Mikaela is, and I—think I'm gonna call Mary."
'That's good. Surround yourself with those two right now since they know what's happening. Do whatever you feel like you need to do right now okay?'
"I will. I do know I wanna get out of the house. I can't...I just can't be in here."
'Okay then do that. Go to Biba, the record store, see a movie, whatever. Hey, it's gonna be okay, alright?'
"Okay. I just—I miss her so much Deacy."
'I know love, I know. I miss her too. Hey listen, I gotta go, the guys are looking at me wanting to know what's going on.'
"I'll let you go then. I maybe out the whole day but I'll give you a call later tonight, okay?"
'Okay my love. I'll talk to you soon. Call me anytime.'
"I will, bye Deacy."
'Bye my love.' I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.
"You sure you wanna get out of the house? It's cool if you just wanna stay here."
"No Mikaela I just—I really can't be in this house anymore. I need to get away from here for a while."
"Okay, okay. But let's get you calm down first before we head on out, okay? I'll talk to Mary this time and you just sit down and drink some water." I nodded and walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle before sitting down at the kitchen table while Mikaela made the call to Mary and explained everything.
A little while later Mikaela told me that Mary is willing to meet us at the movies since we were planning on seeing that new shark movie that was out now. After recomposing myself and drying my eyes up to show no signs that I had been crying, Mikaela and I stepped out and drove on to meet Mary at the movie theater.
The whole day was spent having a girl's day out. Mary paid for our movie tickets (we chose a later showing than originally planned due to all of this), and then Mikaela paid for our lunch. When it got close to our movie time, we all drove back to the theater (thank god it was literally just across the street) and we got our seats.
For the next 2 hours the film JAWS both terrified and had me at the edge of my seat. By the end of the film when Chief Brody shot the shark, the entire audience actually applauded. After the film, we spent the rest of the afternoon doing a little shopping to help cheer me up until it got dark and I knew I had to get back in order to feed Phoebe.
Mikaela and Mary both came back to the house with me to bid me a final goodbye and to give their final condolences on my loss today. They told me that if I ever needed to talk about today or vent, cry or hang out I could always call them. I thanked them before finally entering back inside the house.
When I got inside, the first things I had noticed was that my hall lights were on and Phoebe was currently eating at her food bowl. At that point my heart started racing a bit because my dad was still at work by now since he had requested some overtime so I know that he'd usually would be on his way home but not here, here. I then heard footsteps coming down the stairs and that's when I was shocked to see Deacy coming down the stairs.
"I thought that might've been you. Had it been your dad it would've been awkward."
"Wha—but.....how are you....."
"Before you ask any questions, how are you feeling? Truthfully?" I looked down and sniffled.
"Heartbroken. I miss her Deacy! I miss my baby so much!"
"I know, I know sweetheart. I do too." He said as he immediately embraced me and rocked me back and forth. "Sassy will forever live in your heart and in your memories, you gave her a good life till the end. And she at least passed away in a peaceful, safe environment. She knew you were there and that you took care of her right to the end."
"It all just happened so fast I mean—she was diagnosed with kidney failure just short of 2 weeks and now she—"
"Shhhh, shh I know. I know. But there was nothing you could do love, there was nothing anyone could've done. She—she was an old cat and.....it was just meant to be her time now. You wouldn't want her to keep suffering would you?"
"Never."
"Exactly, no one does. I know it's selfish but she at least died here at home. And she'll be right there with you."
"I just wish she could've stuck around longer, till I at least found a job. It's stressing enough getting no responses cause of my lack of job experiences now I just....."
"I know love. I know. But you know you've got me right? I can be your stress reliever now, hmm? What do you say?" his nose gently grazed against mine. I sniffled and looked up at him to see him softly smile down at me, his eyes softly shining with empathy.
"Thank you Deacy. I'm happy you came back for me."
"I'll always come to you whenever you need me. You're my best friend (y/n)."
"And you're mine John Deacon." For the rest of the night Deacy pampered me with a warm bath filled with my favorite bath bombs and favorite scented candles. When the bath was done, he helped me into my favorite snuggly pj's before placing me on my bed and snuggling up close to me. My head resting over his chest and his arms wrapped around me snug and tight.
His hand rubbed my back comfortingly and every now and then I felt him kiss the crown of my forehead every time I sniffled or whimpered. Even though he always said he wasn't a singer, I heard him hum the tune to our song 'you're my best friend' and all the while I kept thinking of my baby girl.
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In Memoriam Herschel (2005-2021)
           It was the late summer/early autumn of 2005. I was 16 years old. I went to a friend’s house for a get-together with other friends. She lived in a more rural area, so stray cats were not uncommon. One of these strays had recently birthed a litter of kittens. They were corralled into a blocked-off area in my friend’s den. Naturally, we all gravitated towards the kittens. We spent a good while petting them, playing with them, holding them, and watching them with their mother. A particular kitten was a gray and white tabby. This kitten had made its way towards me and tried to crawl up one of my jean legs. I was wearing bootcut jeans, so it actually managed it. I was immediately drawn to this kitten, the idea of asking my parents if we could keep it already forming.
While my friends and I were playing with them, we decided to give them all smartass, noncommittal names. None of us could sex kittens, so that was reflected in the names we chose. I named the gray and white tabby (of which there were two, but I zeroed in on the jean leg kitten) “Herschel.” Why? Well, when I was eight or nine, I used to play House with friends. I had heard the name “Herschel” on some sitcom, and I liked the sound of it. So, I often named my fake son “Herschel.” This became an inside joke between my best friend and me.
            Back at home, I asked my mom if we could adopt the kitten. She had veto power. She was kind of hesitant at first but eventually relented. A few weeks later my friend and her mom brought the kitten over to my house. By that point I was already seriously referring to it as “Herschel.” We all just kind of assumed it was male. The first thing Herschel did after getting out of the carrying case was hide behind one of our bookcases and stayed there.
            We took Herschel to the vet. Upon examination the vet tech proclaimed he was, in fact, she. Her exact words were “You have a little girl!” For better or for worse, I was committed to “Herschel” (much to my mom’s chagrin), so from then on, I had a girl cat with a boy name. This led to years of various people (mostly veterinary staff) getting her sex wrong. I don’t know that I ever bothered correcting them because, well, they were going to find out the truth soon enough.
            Between 2005 and 2010, Herschel grew from a kitten with what my mom described as “Yoda ears” into a gorgeous young lady. She had the most beautiful green eyes. People always had nice things to say about her looks. She had an adorable bow-legged gait from the beginning. She grew into an affectionate little cuddle-bug once she adjusted to us. She was wary of strangers, which was probably for the best. She did not like to go outside as much as our older cat, Simba (RIP)—especially after being treed once—but she was a very skilled huntress. She even managed to get two hummingbirds. Obviously, I’m not a fan of such “presents,” but I couldn’t help but be impressed by her prowess.
            In 2007, we adopted 2 labs named Olive and Penny (RIP x2). 2010, we adopted two fluffy black kittens from our vet’s office. We named them Buttercup and Licorice (RIP x2). Herschel respected Simba because of his seniority, but she absolutely despised the other pets. She would growl and hiss at them on sight. Because of this, the dogs had to stay downstairs while the cats had free rein upstairs. By 2012, Buttercup had gone missing, and we had adopted two more animals: a cat named Kid Twist (“Twist” for short) and a blue heeler named Bleu. Herschel did not care for them either. That same year my parents moved one state over, and I moved to a nearby city to stay with a family friend. The Menagerie went with my parents.
            One day in 2013 or 2014 my mom commented about how Herschel hid under a guest room bed much of the time. She would only come out to do her business or eat. Since the dogs had free rein over the entire house, this meant there was no real “safe space” for Herschel. Thus, her reclusiveness. Mom was worried about her well-being. I offered to take Herschel under my wing. Mom agreed. Now, my housemate already had a few cats, so it wasn’t perfect, but it was an improvement over a house with dogs. Herschel had been under my care since.
            In 2015 Herschel moved with me into the apartment I currently live in. Despite my apartment’s smallness, she was finally the one cat in a one-cat home. I had stopped letting her out because a) my apartment complex is positively labyrinthine b) the complex is next to a busy highway, and c) I wanted her to live longer and not harm any wildlife (although her hunting days were behind her). She didn’t seem to mind. For the next few years, she was my kitty comrade. Aside from some dental issues and a heart murmur, she always had a clean bill of health. I honestly thought she was going to live as long as Simba had (18, almost 19) because he was also a spry geriatric cat.
            In late 2020, Herschel was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism. She had been growing thinner and vomiting before I found out. I had to start giving her medication twice per day, but there was otherwise no change. She was still the empress I knew and loved, if a little slower. I thought that was going to be it. Then, earlier this year, the vet ran some more tests. While I had managed to lower her thyroid levels, the vet found another problem: chronic kidney disease. My blood ran cold upon hearing this because one of our pet labs, Olive, had died from kidney failure a few years prior. The vet told me while there was no cure, CKD could be managed with diet changes and medication. He was right, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case with Herschel. She quickly went from stage 3 to stage 4 (4 being the end stage). I still kick myself about this because I feel like I could’ve found out sooner. Anyway, the vet suggested I should have Herschel hospitalized for a couple of days with IV fluids. The idea was to basically rehydrate her and then start a regimen of a new diet, supplements, and medication.
            So, I waited outside for three hours until a hospital staff member came to collect Herschel. It would’ve been longer, but my very kind vet called ahead. A couple of days later my mom and I returned to the hospital to wait for Herschel. It was March 25th, my birthday. One of the vets called me and stated despite the diuresis, Herschel’s stats remained the same. She stated I had probably 2 weeks left with her. I knew she was right, but I was still determined to try. I gave her daily cocktails of medication. I learned how to give her subcutaneous injections to hydrate her. I got the prescription wet food. At first, she had more okay days than bad, but it eventually became clear she was circling the drain. Treatment transformed into hospice care. I was going to do everything possible to keep her comfortable. By the end she was incontinent and no longer eating or drinking. Then she stopped being able to walk. I knew I had to make the final appointment. After a long crying session, I did.
            My mom came to help yesterday. Herschel was mostly immobile and out of it. Not even her favorite prosciutto roused her. I swaddled her in a changing pad and a blanket and slept with her next to me for one more night. She was still alive this morning if barely. Before we were set to go to her final appointment, I played her Sugarloaf’s “Green-Eyed Lady” (which will always remind me of her) and Audrey Hepburn’s version of “Moon River.” As my mom and I went to prepare her for the appointment, we realized how still she was. She did not appear to be breathing, and she did not react to anything we did. I took a flashlight to her pupils and… she was gone. She had died peacefully on my couch, which was one of her favorite spots to lounge. Honestly, I was relieved because the thought of taking her to a strange place to be euthanized frankly distressed me. I cuddled her ragdoll body from then until we were sitting in the vet office’s parking lot. Mom got a chance to hold her, too. A vet tech came out, used her stethoscope, and confirmed what we already knew. After a few more minutes with her we said our last goodbyes. I filled out paperwork confirming I wanted her ashes returned to me with a clay pawprint.
            I want Herschel’s ashes buried on my parents’ property with the others. Maybe a little farther away since she did not like most of them. I’m also looking into urn jewelry so I can carry her with me. This cat saw me at some of my lowest points, including when I was furloughed from my job last year. This cat was sweet and affectionate but also a pesky little shit. This cat was the first living being I was fully responsible for. She somehow managed to be regal while shoving her butthole into your face. If she liked you, she came and sat with you. If she didn’t, she hid behind the washing machine. I’m convinced she was part slug because even at her largest she was able to fit into confined spaces. I will miss her trilling meows. She was beautiful to the end, and I will always love her and miss her. I don’t know if there is an afterlife or not, but if there is, I hope she has endless king crab and prosciutto to snack on.
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quicktothebatjalopy · 4 years
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The Creative Process, or: How to write a novel.
“Find something you would like to create with. This can be with plasticine, papier mache, words, pipe cleaners and sequins, colored pencils, construction paper, popsicle sticks, or other media. -Sit down and fidget with your materials. Build a little hut out of words and popsicle sticks. Call it "Abraham Lincoln's Log Cabin, No Trademark Infringement Intended." -Put it on your desk and be proud. Feel refreshed. Show it to your friends. Six months later, notice it collecting dust. Think, huh, that could be better. -Take it apart. Put it together. Fix the roofline. Use some plasticine for stickum this time. Give it a styrofoam chimney. -Put it back on your desk. Six months later, add some pipe clearer smoke to the chimney, with the cool wooly pipe cleaners. Call it "Abraham Lincoln's Log Cabin V. 2.0, No Trademark Infringement Intended." Take the pipe cleaner smoke off again. Call it "Abraham Lincoln's Boyfriend's Log Cabin, No Trademark Infringement Intended." -Make bricks for the chimney out of sequins. Pin them on with straight pins. -Color the popsicle sticks in with magic marker. Decide you don't like it. Start over with fresh popsicle sticks. Call it "Not Your Daddy's Lincoln Log Cabin, No Trademark Infringement Intended." Decide you don't like that either. Make little pipe cleaner people and animals and put them around. Act out their soap-opera daily dramas. (Oh, Momma, Billy's in with the sheep again!) Call it: "When Laura Ingalls Wilder Went Down On The Farm, No Suggestion Of Libelous Intent Intended." -Try tempera paint this time. Hmm. Better. -Dab white glue on the chimney sequins with a q-tip because they are too shiny and don't look like real bricks. Color in the tempera-painted popsicle sticks with charcoal and chalk, to add shading and texture. Experiment with watercolor. -Collect spruce needles and pine cones. Start gluing the spruce needles around the base of the house as foundation plantings. Call it "My Farm In A Time Of Hard Drought, or: This Is Not The Tempest." Snicker about it when people ask. Notice a beetle infestation. Spray. Leave it outside until the smell comes off. Start shingling the roof with pine cone scales. -Realize they clash with the sequins. -Unpin the sequins. Replace them with glued-on dried navy, kidney, black, and pinto beans. Hey, it's a fieldstone fireplace. what? Make a ragged door out of piece of bark. Realize you do not know how to hang it. Lean it up against the side of the house. -Steal the brass knob off the top of the pepper mill for a doorknob. Whistle when your husband asks you if you've seen the little bit that goes on top of the pepper thing. Turn the house around to face the wall for a week or two. Finish shingling the back of the roof. Get some sphagnum moss and tiny silk roses, and go around under the eaves with it. -In the back. -Where nobody will ever see it. Defend this by saying it was how your grandmother said one should finish a quilt, even the bits on the inside. Well, she didn't say sphagnum moss, exactly. Take off all the pine cone scales are try again with a different species. Hmm. Maybe maple helicopters? Figure out that you can hinge the door with bent sewing pins and scraps of leather shoelace. It hangs crooked. Put a hook-and-eye latch on the other side to straighten it out. Call it, "My Side Of The Mountain With A Builder's Permit." -Spend about a day and a half fiddling with your Real! Working! Door!, making the little pipecleaner people go in and out. Borrow your brother's skillsaw. Cut windows. Realize the tempera and charcoal detailing looks faker than fake. -Glaze the windows with hand-split flakes of mica. Put tiny christmas lights around the edges of the windows so they glow from within. Forget to make a hole for the plug. -Borrow the skillsaw again. Go on vacation with your family. Spend the entire time sitting on the beach fiddling with sand and shells, thinking about patterns. Come back and add a driftwood tree, and a sea-glass walkway border. Try to figure out how to glue down sand so it doesn't look terrible. -Ask for a skillsaw for the holidays. Realize that if you use a THIRD species of pine cone for the roof, you can make siding out of maple helicopter shakes. Spend about five weeks painstakingly applying these by hand. -Realize the result looks like ass, but you finally got the roof right this time. -Take all the maple helicopters off again and use them to make furniture instead, with rose-hip chair cushions. -Realize that you could have just used spray adhesive. Suffer a crisis of faith. Berate yourself as a stupid failure. Play with the little people and the furniture until you calm down. Get some cat-tail stems. Split them painstakingly in half and cut them to size. Glue them over the popsicle sticks. Now, *that* looks like a cabin. And nobody will ever notice that bit in the back where the overlap is a little rough. -Tuck some sphagnum moss into it, just to be sure. -And a tiny silk rose. Realize it's done. -Look at it for a day or two, just to be sure. Set up all the pipe cleaner people, give them tiny little acorn cap hats and flowerstem walking sticks. Give one a pair of dragonfly wings and another one a feather. Realize that no, the feather goes on this one, instead. Call it "Midnight In The Garden Of The Fairy Hut." -The best pipe cleaner animal is always the pony. You don't know why; you just have a knack for ponies. -Love all the little pipe cleaner people and animals so much it's very hard to do what you have to do next. Realize that the pine cone scales, in the cold of winter, have wept tiny golden droplets of sap all over the roof, where they catch the light and smell of summer. Realize you never could have got that effect on purpose in a thousand patient years. -Stall. Make a tiny, tiny lashed ladder from birch twigs and bark. Run it up under the eaves to the attic window. Secure it with a drop of Krazy Glue. -Hey, it dries clear. Nobody will ever know. -Stall. Finally, on a bright cool day in early June, take the whole thing outside, set it on the patio, douse it in lighter fluid and set it on fire. But make it look like an electrical fire, not arson. -Take pictures before and after, and all the while it burns. -Go through and pick out the best ones. Be surprised by the color of the flames. Call it, "Ladder in the woods." Hang the pictures in a gallery. Try to look uninterested as you listen to people exclaim, "I really think she should have used sequins for the chimney!" and "Hey, there's a bit in the back here where the cat-tail stems are messed up" and "You know, the pony is much better than all the other animals," and "Oh! Look! A tiny silk rose!!!" -Love that last person with all your heart. Love them so much you have to leave the room for a moment to compose yourself. Think, I knew I put that rose there for someone. I just didn't know at the time that it was you. Looking at the pictures, realize you have figured out how to do a better job on the chimney after all. -And the next one is going to have a barn. And a second story. -And maybe a pub next door, God willing. Leave the pictures on the wall of the gallery. Walk away, thinking, "That doesn't look a thing like the house, really, but I still kind of like it." Endure a moment of intense melancholy while you think about the pony. When you go home, rake the cool ashes for the bits of sea glass and the knob to the pepper mill, and save them--cracked and discolored--in an opaque jar on the corner of your desk. When your husband wanders in and asks what smells like burning, sniff thoughtfully and pretend you don't notice a thing.”
-E. Bear
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recurring-polynya · 4 years
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not sure if you’re still doing this or not. RenRuki OTP questionnaire numbers 10, 24, 29, 31
I am definitely still doing the OTP meme! (in fact, I was hoping to get more requests, so thank you!!)
24. What is something they have each had to forgive the other for?
I’m gonna start out talking about what they don’t have to forgive each other for, because I think I’m in the minority on this, but I do not think either of them has ever been mad at each other about their separation. When they buried their last friend, I think both of them went into this headspace where they knew that they were probably going to have to split up if they wanted to survive, and they were both determined to see the other off to their best possible fate.
I also don’t think Rukia ever blamed Renji for the way he treated her during her arrest. They are members of a paramilitary order, and he used a level of force appropriate for a officer restraining a subordinate who is resisting arrest, and could possibly be possessed/influenced by outside forces. I think she would have been madder at him if he’d treated her like she wasn’t a serious threat.
For the real answer!
I think Rukia has had to forgive Renji for being a huge dickwad to her when they were in school. I think she was hanging on academically, and really struggling emotionally, and he kept trying to get her to try harder on the first point, without really acknowledging the second. In later years, she has come to realize that his mania toward greatness came out of a fear of failure; that he would let her down, or that they would wash out and have to go back to Rukongai. Also, he was a teen boy.
I think Renji had to forgive Rukia for being unrepentantly giving Ichigo her powers, and going willingly to her own death for it. I’m not saying he thought it was wrong or that didn’t understand it (especially later, after he got to know Ichigo) but he worked for 40 years to see her again, and she took all his hard work and swatted it off the counter like an asshole cat. Just look at this poor man’s face.
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This is definitely the exact moment she stabbed him in the heart, but then continued to kick him in kidneys over the next few days by refusing to care about her own fate and also being right about what a dick Byakuya is.
I am not sure we talk about this enough.
29. What are each of their signature foreplay moves?
Okay, so one time, I was writing an erotica and I had to look up how you actually get a fundoshi off, and I found this page about a dude who has many very creative ways to whip it off (warning: link contains a video with naked thighs and butts), and I immediately headcanoned that Renji knows all of these, and more. I’ve mentioned before that I think he and Hisagi dated for a while, and they used to do this competitively. Anyway, Rukia also enjoys it.
Rukia’s signature foreplay move is to order Renji around in her Captain voice. Mostly, I think she makes him take off his shirt and do push-ups and then criticizes his form; they are both super horny for this.
Sex is weird, y’all.
31. What do they love to do after sex?
First of all, cuddling is compulsory. Renji is crazy-go-nuts for post-coital cuddling, and Rukia puts up with it because he’s very cute about it.
Anyway, the real answer is to lounge around with their bathrobes half-tied and eat something. I think before they get married, Rukia comes over all the time “for dinner” and gets really horny when she sees him in his apron, and tackles him as soon as the last pan is safely off the stove, and then they actually eat an hour later.
Once they are married, especially on weekends, I think they’re big on morning sex, followed by a big, lazy breakfast.
10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them. 
Ha ha, did you really think I could keep it to 300 words? I could not. Partially inspired by my answer to #24, this is set during their academy days.
There was a rap at the window. 
Rukia ignored it.
There was a louder rap, followed by a rattle, followed by a muffled “Oi, Rukia! You there? Lemme in! It’s cold out here and my ass is hanging out in the wind!”
In absolutely no hurry, Rukia got up from her bed, sauntered over to the window, and flicked open the latch. 
Renji shoved the window open and collapsed into the room, his nose and cheeks bright red with the chill. “What’s the big deal?” he demanded. 
“I don’t see why you even bother to come over if you’re going to be so late,” Rukia complained. “My roommate will be back in half an hour.”
“I was helpin’ Kira with his sword stances and Sensei came by and I couldn’t exactly slip away,” Renji excused defensively, before his face cracked into a self-important grin. “He said Kira’s really improved and so’s Hinamori, and that I must be a pretty good instructor, which is a good quality if I ever want to be a seated officer.”
“Whatever,” Rukia replied, flopping back on her bed. Maybe keeping track of time was also a good quality for a seated officer.
Renji huffed. “Look, I know you don’t like Kira and Hinamori, but I’d be failing all my classes without them, and they’re gonna be really good connections some day. Also, they’re nice.”
Rukia threw her arms up. “I don’t see why you get to be in the advanced classes if you need a bunch of snobs to carry your dumb ass.” Her face was turned to the wall, so she didn’t see the face he made in response.
“I don’t see why you can’t bother to make any friends in your own class. I know most of ‘em are probably dicks, but you don’t even know anyone’s name. I am trying so hard, Rukia, and it’s like you don’t even care. It’s like you don’t even want to be here.”
“School is stupid,” Rukia announced. “I don’t give a shit about passing tests and reading books and making friends. I want to be strong. I want to kill Hollows. Did you see that big crater on the south side of the kidou butts? That was me. I did that. I did a Soren Sokatsui, which we haven’t even learned yet, and then I had to do 30 laps for it, because they hate it whenever I do anything great.”
“They hate it when you break the rules all the time,” Renji grumbled.
“That’s right,” Rukia agreed. “They like you because you fit their ideas that shinigami from the outer Rukon should be big and strong and dumb and do whatever they’re told.”
“I’m not dumb,” Renji bristled.
“I know that!” Rukia snapped back. “But I’ve seen you acting like a moron around your snooty friends. Makes things comfortable, doesn’t it? When you can pretend like you can’t do math so they won’t feel so bad when you show them up at hakuda?”
“Stop saying shit about my friends!” Renji demanded. “The teachers expect everyone to have a formal education, not just-- you know what? I don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you! You never listen to me or anyone else anyway.”
Rukia sat up, angrily. “If you’re so big on rules, Abarai, why are you even here? The last I checked, boys weren’t allowed in the girls’ dorm.”
Renji glowered at her for a moment. She wondered if he was going to lose his temper, shout at her, bring the resident assistant running, get slapped with a stack of demerits. Demerits, ha.
He didn’t. He clenched his back teeth and he clenched his fists and finally, he managed, “I am leaving because you clearly don’t want me here. Rules are stupid, you’re right, but starting shit just to make a damn point is even stupider. Grow the hell up, Rukia.”
Rukia grabbed the edge of her blanket and pulled it around herself as she heard the window slam behind him. She pulled her pillow over her head for good measure, and wished, not for the first time, that they had never come to this stupid place.
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artiemoonqueen · 4 years
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Baby
By: Monica Lebron
I was part of a family that had very few pets. We had a turtle that was always there since I can remember but was never...never named. We had doves that my dad once built a coop next to our garage. We would have them in the house as they would sit on our shoulders and often lay unfertilized eggs everywhere. My brother and I were definitely too young to take care of doves. One perished from a night in said coop by a predator, the other was wounded and healed inside the house. We somehow...crushed this one during one of our rough housing. I know I know, we are heathens and should be sent to Peta jail but we were children. Being only three years apart from one another at ages 8-10, we were wrestling and playing on the couch with a comforter and one thing led to another. Our last friend from a pair seems to have gotten tangled up with us. We were very very mournful I swear to you all. After that, our parents had divorced(not because of the doves) and I was left to entertain myself without any responsibility to a pet. It was another story for my brother and mom but this isn;t about their many adventures with pets. This really isn't about the ‘previous’ pets we had in the past. This story is about Baby. In the year 2018, long before my 28th birthday I had to figure out a living situation.
1)find roommates that I knew
2)find roommates that I didn’t know
3)move back with my dad
4)live on my own
Since I had lived two years with roommates that I knew and some I knew too much. Before that I was living with my father that would sometimes ‘break my soul’. And I was a bit hesitant to move with people that were strangers at that time, I took the opportunity to live on my own for the first time. $650.00 for an apartment that has high ceilings, beautiful lighting that I will admit that I am currently kicking myself that I didn’t take enough selfies. Furniture and decorations of my own taste and pretty chill neighbors, the location was a little out of ways from anyone visiting and just down the hill was a large pharmaceutical company that was the ‘leading biotechnology company that invents life-transforming medicines for people with serious diseases’ in other words, high possibility that they are working on zombie-endulced material that a friend of mine who once worked there, would swear that that wasn’t happening but promise to text me ‘code red’ as a warning to get my ass far away from that place in anything were to happen.
So I was alone finally and I had really fucking felt it. I went through a winter before looking through websites for adopting an adult feline. I had no preference other than friendly, pettable, I pick up and hug when I need it, but independent. Spoilers(with tears coming down my face I was able to find that. Sorry I thought this was going to be easier) Before our paths would tangle as the dove with my brother and I’s wrestling match, I first looked on the local humane society website to look for potential companions. While I knew I wanted an older cat because of less time training and the idea of giving an older cat a better life, I saw a green eye, black cat with the christen name ‘Monica’. Now if you want to take this moment to go back to the top of this tale and look at the author’s name, I too am named ‘Monica’. What kinda psycho names a cat with a human name like ‘Monica’? I’ve heard names like Sprinkles, Scooby, Donut, Ringo, Chucky, and just about any reference to a greek god/goddess or dessert. Who was the previous owner that watched too many episodes of ‘Friends’ that decided to name a kitten Monica? I quietly laughed in my lonely one bed-room and moved along the website until the next day, on May 21, 2018. A week before my 28th birthday, my little cousin and I drove our way to the adoption center to look at cats that I had no idea whether I would go through with it or not.
“There’s a cat there named Monica?” my cousin had asked after I told her the musing I did the night before.
“ Yeah, she was cute but I can’t take her! I’d look insane.”
“ You don’t know Monica, maybe she is the one.”
“ Hell fucking no.”
We got out of the car and walked in. The front desk had a box of kittens that needed to be processed in. Their mewls were delightful to hear but were too young to be adopted out. I had signed in and asked ‘what’s your most friendliest outgoing cat here right now?’ The person attending us was quick to say all the cats were great but in her time there she had gotten to like a cat named...Monica. I could feel my cousin's smirking gaze on me. I was not going to subject myself to ridicule for having a cat with my same namesake thank you very much. There were many potential companions to see anyway. Some very old and very young. One with just an eye that I was close to choosing and others with large ears that reminded me of season 1 of ‘Girls’ Adam Sackler. But in the room with both a ‘mr and mrs. Incredible’ was also the notable cat named Monica. Let me tell you a little about the cat that will soon be renamed ‘Baby’. She knew how to get ya’ to want her affection. She knew that being present, unafraid. In the open, fluffy with hints of grey and a rich reddish brown coat along the black, open wide green eyes and a meow that was certain. She was her own saleswoman. In a true cliche, I was ‘hook, line and sinker’.
After $90.00 in cash, in a cardboard ‘cat carrier’ and her meowing away, I took a female, domestic longhair, black, eye color that was the color green. Birth Date 10/2009, formerly named ‘Monica’ home. Our first week, I thought she wanted to get close to me at night so when I awoke to a bat that brushed across my face and not her, that was fun. Eleven shots and two weeks of follow up maintenance shots for rabies, we had gotten familiar to one another. I would feed her half a can of wet food at 5:30 am before my morning shift at my part time job at the dmv and feed her the rest at night after my shift from my salon job. She lay on her back sometimes when we were both in the living room while I enjoyed binging on tv. And meow when I say ‘what?’ when we would eye at each-other. She will follow me to a basement apartment that I shared with my close friend David. We call her ‘pizza’ baby because of the time she climbed alongside the back of the couch while we were eating pizza from Pizzaroni. I felt a tug on my left arm that was holding up my cheese slice. When I looked, she was leaning far to reach my pizza to eat it. Not a successful attempt that time but she will try again. She constantly wanted the attention of David to which he would gladly and promptly pet her while she purred and then quickly turned around to bit his hand away. He always gave her the attention though. For that I am grateful for David. You made sure she ate and loved. You affectionately talk about her to your parents on your long distance phone calls with them and tell your two ideal brunch buddies about your time with Baby. You were the best coparent for her when I would leave for a week long trip to Europe or weekends away to work conventions. She loved you. You had to know that, and you Mike. She loved you too. But she didn’t love the dogs that would shit all over the backyard on the walkway to the trash. Those assholes.
Her next adventure with a month long excursion to my dad’s house before the final move together. While I worked my last few weeks at the salon to save for the time that I would become a true ‘City’ woman. She would find ways to break into my dad's room to lay on the middle of his bed and sleep. His heater would be right in her direction, while we sat unknowing in his recliner in front of his tv. He didn't want to like her. I know this. But who could meet a cat like Baby and not love her. Who would not love seeing a black cat go on her hind legs to look out the window that you have looked through to see the ongoings of the gentleman club next door. Yes, from grades eighth to age 26 I had lived in an apartment that was a stone throw away from a gentleman’s club that late at night, my dad would wake me up to see out the window and watch as the patrons would take pictures of topless dancers on the sign of the establishment before a game of ‘catch me if you can’ through the usual busy main street formerly known as The Bowery before 1867 however that should be left for another drawn out tale. Baby will have a final destination and despite her short time here, my dream of her sleeping peacefully near me while I lay on my bed on a raining day did come to fruition. Super Bowl LIV, February 2, 2019. Both my birth mother and I are hungover from separate nights from each other. She picks up my stuff, Baby and I. And we head to my current apartment in Brooklyn, New York. A dream that I have had besides the many others that will be done and accomplished, I swear. Baby is free to roam the car but she opts to explore little and sleeps most of the way to hear and then to Long Beach for two nights of rest. She walks around like the fearless cat that she is in any space she is in. Never cowers. Never shows fear or intimidation. She is fucking awesome in all her glory and we live together here for another six months until she seems to not to be herself.
As I live in a time of fear for my health during a pandemic, I don’t realize that Baby could be going through a decrease of quality of life with some kind of kidney failure. It was all too quick the deterioration in her appearance and behavior. I was quick to get her to a vet but the results showed more than we had thought and I had to bring her to an emergency vet. They were so kind but when the doctor told me the treatment that would be done to her, I agreed to then going to reception to find out that I would even have enough money to keep her there for a day of treatment. I paid for blood work, exam fees and medicine just to try and figure a way and she seemed to perk up again and walk her way to her favorite rooms to look out the windows or spy on us watching another extructating episode of White Lines. But she wouldn’t eat. For almost three weeks she wouldn’t eat and I had to force feed her food but she didn't want it. I would just get frustrated and I’m sure she was frustrated with me but why wouldn’t she just eat and take the medicine and be like another girls cat that has had kidney failure for years but the cat was still going? Why?
I knew what was going to happen if I made another appointment. I knew and I didn’t want to know. I just had to make the appointment because what if? What if, despite the week before she was back to her ‘old self’ she got even worse the following week, and couldn’t even walk in a straight line. What if her constant sleeping was just her trying to heal herself? What if I bring her one more time and they have a better option that I can afford and I can bring her home and she could lay right beside me on the bed like she use to and look at me with her beautiful green giant eyes that a kid once said were evil eyes but your are dumb kid, really dumb. What if? That’s not how it goes though. We know in our souls when it’s time to say that horrible and final goodbye. So we push through, kiss them more and hold them close and bring them to the vet. We will wait and listen with tears already shed for the answer we didn’t want. The answer that didn’t fit with the what ifs. And you try to say your goodbye while uttering so many I’m so sorry. This isn’t a mom in hospice or a phone call from the police saying your sibling has passed. It’s nothing close to seeing the numbers of people dying from a virus or you dad getting in an accident and obtaining horrible injuries. Those pains are harsh, and grasping air. Those pains affect the heart, and brain for the rest of your life. Baby is like one in a million pets that people have lost. There will be millions of pets to come and go after my time here. However Baby was mine for a short time, but mine. I love her. I miss her. I feel her but I know she can never be here with me again. Feeling her not in the room with us but still having her body left was eerie. She made me happy, and loved like a familiar to its owner. Her snores by my head will be missed. Her purrs and weight on my chest. Her constant knots in her long hair. Her allowances of my kisses on her head. Goodbye Monica, Goodbye Baby.
END
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randomkiwibirds · 5 years
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3, 7, 35! For the catblr asks
YASSS thank you!
3) Describe one of your favourite moments with your cat.
Oh I have so many!
One with Nicky it is when she goes what we call “bat cat crazy” hurtles around the house for no apparent reason and generally embraces the darkside. It’s terrifying, as graceful she is not. One with Cricket it’s when he trots around with his tail straight up with a crick at the end looking up at you making dying cricket noises. 
7) How did you meet your cat?
Oh good story with this one! 
Nicky we met for the first time at the vet. Our elderly boy Tom, was constipated badly because of his kidney failure, and was spending a couple of days on fluids before he came home. So mom and I were visiting him brought in his favourite bed, and a handful of the special cat food he needed to be on. So we were in the back of the vet with him when this dark blur shot by making a beline for the laundry room, which had just been opened. The tech that was back there with us said something like “she does that.” 
Fast forward a couple of months later and Tom is now going in every other day for fluids. And the techs are talking to my mom (as she lovingly relays the story) and are trying to convince her to get another cat as our two are elderly now and they’ve got this cat that needs a home. They wear her down eventually and she agrees to meet the cat. They so they bring her out to the lobby. There’s this snarling hissing ball of fur in the tech’s arms and she promptly turns back into the examining room going “Right then” My mom makes a mental note not to adopt that cat.
Few months after that after prodding and talking with me and Dad, we decide that yeah we would get a 3rd cat - it would need to be female and around 3-4 years old as my mom didn’t want to do kittens again, and female as not to upset Tom (as we didn’t need him fighting again) The vet dutifuly recommended Nicky - who was in the right age range and female. So mom and I went into the vet to meet her, in the examining room Nicky was a charmer - she demanded water from the tap she was bouncy and full of energy.  So we agree to take her and give it a shot. 
6 hours after she came home, she literally climbed 6ft worth of those child gates that we were using in the introduction process, hissed at cat figurnes, hissed at Tom, Scully, Me and Mom, and the dog across the street she could see through the window, decided that the dryer was an excellent place to go into, batted at pictures on the wall, and promptly investigated the entire house. Hyperactive, obsessive and just absouluty bonkers, Tom apparently looked at my mom with the expression of “What what have you done?”
Cricket’s story is a little bit more boring. Scully had died 4 months prior leaving Nicky alone for the first time in her life. And she was not coping. We’d come home to toys dragged to the door. And sad looking goblin eyes. So after a trip to Texas we started looking in earnest. After looking at a few other cats through a rescue group that weren’t really the one, we arranged to meet Cricket at a Petco in Ashburn. And it clicked. Although the poor dear was nervous af we could see enough of Nicky in him that we knew that they would get along. 
Within 48 hours of brining him home he and Nicky were rapidly becoming friends - with what took months of painful slow introductions with Nicky to Tom and Scully was done within 48 hours with Cricket. Though like Nicky he needed to see the entire house, and adorably got lost.
35) Share your favourite photo of your cat!
Nicky
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Cricket
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blackroseraven · 5 years
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To be candid for a moment on what are mostly silly horse pictures and good stories about me getting run over by this horse or that, I woke up this morning not wanting to exist anymore, really.
It was a very bad morning. And the last thing I wanted to do was go to this weekend. I felt like a terrible failure and I was angry, but angry as in sad, not angry as in angry.
But depression lies and you can’t not do things because you feel bad. Then you regret not doing those things, and you miss out on the chance to feel... if not better, then at least petty about the fact that you tried and it didn’t help so there.
I am very glad that I went.
So winter is here and it snowed and rained and was generally awful in the morning. I shoveled the front walk and stoop, and then we got going.
Partner made hot chocolate and buns, I made rocky road to sell at the bake sale, because on top of the usual potluck today, we also had the open house for the center’s new charity, Equine Empowerment, which is extremely exciting and something I want to dedicate some time towards.
I checked on Quattro and Q and ended up running around a lot in the morning to help out horses who had gotten themselves into various situations due to the snow. Cat somehow got her outer blanket halfway up her body and was bucking around because one of the straps had gotten wrangled around her badly and was yanking on her crotch every time she moved. Sis had her blanket on by one strap. Dillon tore his neck cover inside out. It was a time.
I helped put horses out. Buff and Shark were very good, but they also both kept pawing wildly at the snow and trying to stop to roll on the walk up to their paddock. Where they both proceeded to roll then jump around like idiots. Pasta nearly killed a bunch of people on the way out. Andre and Star are going together now: Andre followed Star very childishly, but then once they were alone in the paddock he walked over and bit Star right in the kidney while he was trying to drink some water.
Horses are jerks.
Ringo was there. Ringo is a dog, not a horse, and an attention whore. Molly, the little bulldog pup who usually ignores me, kept getting incredibly jealous of all the attention Ringo was getting and would run over to me to be pet as well.
We helped set up tables and stuff. Teacherlady and other teacherlady, as sisters, got in an argument about how best to set up everything so we just awkwardly left them to finish it.
Pony club was super early this morning to accommodate the potluck and the charity open house, so I waited a bit, then got Jaeger and brought him inside once all the kids were done. He was very sore and ouch. I felt really bad for him: he had an abscess that was drilled out, but it’s clearly left him really hurting. We only slowly walked one lap in either direction around the arena before I took him back down. I was hoping it was more soreness because he’s got an ugly bump on one side that looks like swelling, but it’s definitely more ouch in his hoof than anything else.
I’m still going to get him to move more, though, to help his hoof drain. Little walks, though. I don’t want to torture him unnecessarily. 
He got to stay inside with Hale, though, in the double stall, so he was able to stay dry and just eat hay all day.
Partner worked with Pasta, who was actually pretty good. Not at first, at first he was a dick, but he adjusted and they did some good ground work together. I was going to ride but ended up going in to eat some lunch instead, since. I’d been working with horses and helping out for four hours already.
Partner left shortly after to take care of our dumb needy dog and I stayed to help with charity stuff, steal some horse books from the shelf, and check out the silent auction and other stuff. There were a bunch of demonstrations and presentations and I watched most of them. Unfortunately, uh. The dressage demonstration clearly wasn’t really rehearsed, and wasn’t really interesting to the people who had showed up, and we lost our audience. Other teacherlady looked kind of like she was going to cry because it went so badly. I felt super bad but. You know. It’s all a learning experience.
The barrel racing was really good and got more positive feedback, but they made the mistake of carrying it on too long and letting it get repetitive. Vaulting and barrel vaulting was interesting, but uh. We had no sound. Also I helped get Hale ready for his part and three screaming little girls hurricaned in, stole my stuff, and ran off.
I also got to climb onto the roof of the tack room and find some extra straps to fix Jaeger’s coat. Unfortunately I then leaned too hard on the plastic bin they were in and put my hand through it so. You win some but mostly you lose.
Also ten feet doesn’t seem like much until you’re climbing hale bales to get up somewhere, with the distinct feeling that at any moment the bales are going to topple and send you down to what you wish was your death.
Also I sniped the auction and probably bid after the official ending but we got a nice western saddle and a really pretty painting.
Unfortunately I didn’t get to ride Quattro, but. When I went out again to see him today he let me walk right up to him, wet or not, and give him a big hug. Which is childish and silly but it makes me happy and I’m glad he puts up with me.
I’m not going to say everything turned around today but... I’m glad that I went, and helped out, and that we did what we could. That’s what really counts. Doing what you promised to do and providing what you can, even if it’s never as much as you hope.
You just have to make it work, day after day. 
The horse smiles help, though.
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