thursday

[monk222]

Coco went to the food plate this morning and looked harder at the food. I was practically praying that my baby would start eating. She even takes a kibble in her mouth, but, no, she just cannot eat. I had even crushed some food into crumbs, in case she might have a tooth problem and cannot bear the possibility of biting down, but that didn't work. I am already starting to cry like I have lost her. If we had money, we'd go and lay out a few hundred for the blood tests, as well as another thousand for perhaps some kidney work, if it would give her another lease on life, but that's not going to happen. I am not entirely without hope that she will still turn around on her own, that maybe she just has something foul in her system that will work itself out. The fact that she is drinking water means that she has more time to play with, but I'm already getting in the mindset of being on a deathwatch, waiting for that time when her suffering gets bad, at which point I trust Pop won't mind paying the fifty dollars to put her to sleep. ... ... Nicholas Kristof gives another review of Trump's dark life and concludes: "This is a narcissist who has no core. The lights are on, but no one’s home." Which is, I guess, an evocative way of saying that the man has no soul. [NYT] ... ... It looks like my baby is eating again. Maybe. It was only a few bites at best, but at least this is trending in the right direction, unless it's a fool's mirage, and she is only desperately hungry enough to at least get the kibble in her mouth before dropping it again. But I am hopeful. ... ... Pop had to pick up Kay, again. Her truck is still in a state of disrepair. They arrived at about 4:30 and went straight to his room, not coming out till about 7:30. As it was getting late, I figured that they would be eating out, because it seemed too late for them to start cooking, and I also didn't see any steaks or hams ready in the refrigerator. But, no, they are still here, in the kitchen, and I should have known that Pop does not like to go out at night without some compunction of necessity. So, it looks like I am going to have to make a couple of quick sandwiches in their mess and in the middle of their traffic, unless they surprise me and take over the big room after all. I'm not feeling stressed. Seeing Coco eat again is making me easier going. I am just grateful that my love is okay. I can tolerate a little more grief in the other aspect of my life.