There are few things more heartbreaking than a sick, possibly dying pet. I have grown up around and with a dog and a whole bunch of cats. So I don't know what life is like without having them around. My dog died when I was quite young. She was old and sick and it seemed like a good thing at that time-to watch her go. She would accompany my grandfather as he picked me up from the bus-stop and everybody would go gaga over her from the school bus. I have been told that when I was younger, she would sit beside my cot and keep an eye on me. She'd growl and bark every time relatives or acquaintances would come near it.
Dogs make the best pets, they say. It is quite true. Cats can never be your pet. They become the eccentric family member, the non-conformist, never your pet.
Shoshi was found when he was barely a month old. He was the cutest, jumpiest little thing. I brought him home in a shoebox and fed him some milk and a little fish because I was unsure how old he was. On his first night at home, I was absolutely petrified like the mother of a newborn baby. I made a bed right next to me and put him there to sleep. I kept the lights on and woke up in the middle of the night to see that he was missing. It turned out that the fucker, barely a month old, had climbed down my bed and was frolicking around under it because he could not sleep!
To see him reduced to a bag of skin and bones, barely breathing breaks my heart into a million little pieces and I can only stand beside him as doctors and their assistants try and do their best to revive him.
It'll be a miracle if he survives. I'll have to hold my breath for the next couple of days. Let's see what fate has in store for him. He's too young to suffer. Please don't make him suffer, universe. That's all I'm asking for at the moment.
I'm your average part-time God and full-time joker.
