Compassion

[Seventeenth in a series]

Last week, Monday afternoon, I took my BabyDoll for her last visit to the vet. But this wasn't a vet visit for the living BabyDoll; rather, this was for the memorial of BabyDoll.

And I wasn't looking at all forward to that vet visit. I was taking BabyDoll for her cremation.

Yesterday had me again at the vet for another reason; this visit was for Princess. She's had some sort of infection down "there", near her groin, for the last few days. Yeast infection it was. Just some oral meds and she should be fine in a week or so.

Since we didn't have a set appointment, I had to leave her for the day. And since she's a Shar Pei mix, she doesn't get along well with strangers. So to keep her calm, I walked back to the kennel area with the vet tech - on the way, I ran into Dr. Wilson, our veterinarian.

"I'm so sorry to hear about BabyDoll" was all he said, but what he said, just those simple seven words, spoke volumes. Sure, over the ten years I'd been going up there either alone or with Susan (the lady who runs CAWS), he knew me well enough. But amid all the barking dogs and hissing cats yesterday, and trying to keep up with whatever task was at hand, he took the time for a calming voice, if only for a moment.

Everyone's been that way for the last two weeks. Even Taylor. I didn't tell him about BabyDoll, Marilee did. And he's been really great lately. Wish he could have that same behavior all the time. Just not for this reason.

Back on August 9th, I wrote about three fears I had, in response to a "tag" by Jenn. One fear was losing BabyDoll. Said I'd be a miserable wreck. That I've written so much about her in the last two weeks bears out the miserable part, but a wreck? Not really.

Because something else I mentioned to Dr. Wilson yesterday was that I was blogging about BabyDoll; he said that sometimes that's what it takes to move beyond the initial shock. And it helps in the healing process.

I'm still healing. And there's more to tell. . .