Sunday evening, Ledcat and I went to see The Savages, one of those sad and uplifting movies about coping with aging parents. I was fine until the very last scene involving a dog (a good scene, don't worry) when I broke into a frenzy of sobs. This character saved the dog and I just wanted to cry because I'm not sure I can do the same thing for my Mona.
Today, Simon went to the vet for what appears to be allergies. I'm so sick of the vet. I'm sick of the drive and the tedious traffic and the poor line of site to make a left turn from the parking lot. I'm sick of waiting. I'm sick of obsessing over every single bite she eats and worrying about any abnormal sound she makes.
My freezer is filled with green veggies, my 'crisper' is packed with lunch meat and carrots, apples are rolling around the counter. I chop and measure and stir. I caress and stroke and comfort. Then I see another dog survive disease - in a movie- and I fall apart.
I feel so guilty for being miserable. She's happy and playful and hungry. She can jump on the bed and take the tennis ball off her brothers. She has a good quality of life. So why do I feel so angry?
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