The Long Goodbye -- Lizzie, Part I

If this workday is going to be anything like yesterday, you can keep it. Too few workers, too many patrons, too many equipment problems.

And my damn cat is beginning to drive me crazy now. She's pooping outside her box now, not every day but once in awhile without warninig, principally on any available carpet (living room) or shag rug (bathroom, during the night, directly in front of sink--surprise!!). And her peeing is becoming a hit and miss affair as well, as often outside her litter box as in it. There's something different about the way she's squatting when she needs to void. And she's so thirsty all the time--she never used to need so much water.

She may be diabetic.

Back to the vet, if I can just find a ride.

Oh, man. I see a long, expensive road ahead of me. Back and forth vet visits. Medications. Progressively messier clean-ups. Wakeful, worried nights.

This is the part about pet care that I dread. You bring these creatures into your life and home as adorable, plump little balls of fur. You love them, care for them as best you know how. And in return they bond with you, greet you joyfully at the door each evening, learn to play with you, anticipate your moods, and by their comforting presence ease those moments of loneliness, stress and trauma. Your little buddy. And then, before you know it, you realize they're getting old and starting to get sick and you're faced with preparing for The Decision.