I suddenly realized today that I hadn't posted anything for the whole month of January. It's been an extraordinarily full month, teaching, working, setting up the hoophouse--and then the going got really rough in the past week:
Frankie (shown here healthy and happy last summer) has kidney failure, suddenly. She's not an elderly cat (we estimate eight or nine) and she's always been healthy until recently. This week Frankie's been in and out of the animal hospital, and now is home with us, woozy and frail. The vet says it's very unlikely she'll recover.
I can't help but hope for a miracle cure--partly because I'm in denial, partly because I seem constitutionally unable to not hope even when hope defies logic, partly because I don't trust authority, and partly because I always want to believe there's a way to fix problems, find solutions, make it right.
Of course have been frantically researching all kinds of herbal, homeopathic, and nutritional approaches to feline renal failure, and reading accounts of people who have nursed their cats through kidney failure, some claiming to have seen full recoveries. Maybe we'll have time to try some of these remedies -- stinging nettle seeds, fish oils, various raw meat concoctions -- or maybe not. In the meantime, I'm hoping that the touch, affection, sunlight slanting across the floor, warmth of the woodstove, and other comforts of home are providing some healing, or at least some peace.
I know we all die someday. And cats' lifespans are short compared to ours. My friend KT says it's a design flaw. But I sure do wish Frankie could stay a while longer. I love the heck out of her, and it's hard to imagine this household without her in it. Please send her your love, dear readers.