Out of Remedies
You know - many probably do - reading my saga and journeys with my cats. My stolen sherpa carrier, the end resulting in not being able to get to the vet as easily as I could, my finances, living in a war zone and the constant barrage of assaults to my own system with PTSD from a younger age and with this, Dealing.
Dealing with life as it comes, on its own terms, me - I'm just a survivor and a part-time writer. And in this today, I am *dealing* with Jessie and his parasite-ridden blood cells and why won't those bugs just leave him the f alone?! Anti-biotics were created for the lesser strength bacteria, they can't fight off the inner leechers.
I see my proud boy, grey haired and green eyes, with the power to climb mountains and pines and catch the wind when he wasn't honing in big-pawed on a stray rodent. Only to present it to me, gifting the shredded souled one with something once alive - now struggling. And dealing with that too in a fatalistic yet numbing way. Thank you Jessie. I told him that time after time. He knew I loved him. Does he still when he's collapsed, stretched into the Southern part of the room, face towards the setting sun, getting his air straight from Nature as he always liked it?
I'm at a crossroads with him - life or death. Done the deal. The remedies, the prayers - though I won't give up till he does and how badly am I now doing that I'm not throwing in the proverbial towel and just putting him To Sleep. I've been playing the denial thing a long, lonnng time now. I think we're both real tired. I'm out of remedies, out of solutions, out of words.
Be well, fair boy. Be well and happy and just soar with the sun, in sheer Love and Light.
Forever,
Joy
Dealing with life as it comes, on its own terms, me - I'm just a survivor and a part-time writer. And in this today, I am *dealing* with Jessie and his parasite-ridden blood cells and why won't those bugs just leave him the f alone?! Anti-biotics were created for the lesser strength bacteria, they can't fight off the inner leechers.
I see my proud boy, grey haired and green eyes, with the power to climb mountains and pines and catch the wind when he wasn't honing in big-pawed on a stray rodent. Only to present it to me, gifting the shredded souled one with something once alive - now struggling. And dealing with that too in a fatalistic yet numbing way. Thank you Jessie. I told him that time after time. He knew I loved him. Does he still when he's collapsed, stretched into the Southern part of the room, face towards the setting sun, getting his air straight from Nature as he always liked it?
I'm at a crossroads with him - life or death. Done the deal. The remedies, the prayers - though I won't give up till he does and how badly am I now doing that I'm not throwing in the proverbial towel and just putting him To Sleep. I've been playing the denial thing a long, lonnng time now. I think we're both real tired. I'm out of remedies, out of solutions, out of words.
Be well, fair boy. Be well and happy and just soar with the sun, in sheer Love and Light.
Forever,
Joy
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