Cats and Love and Love and Cats And Just Love
She'll be on steroids for another 10 days and on an antibiotic for two weeks. This should give me enough time to get a second opinion about the cloud over her lungs. Maybe it will go away. Maybe it won't. She may not have much time, but my dear neighbor who is also Erm's special gentleman friend promises that if she curls up and dies, he will come deal with it. Just knowing that makes me feel like I can have her home without being terrified every moment. I may even try to set up a special dying place in the storage room (where she was hiding last time) with a tiny nook that she can go to if it's her time. I don't want her squishing herself into some crummy, dusty corner.
So, this: as you've reminded me, there is no reason to apologize for wanting to pour out our love on people, things and animals. If they respond worthily, or even if they're willing to walk the path of *trying* to respond worthily, it's some of the best soul-building work a human being can do. Love is always good work.
Thanks again for *your* outpouring of support and understanding, and for cherishing your own fur people. Thank you even to those of you who said that your own cats died after a similar crisis, because even though it upsets me to hear it, it's a very likely outcome of this situation and it helps to know that we can all get through it.
Blessings to you all and thanks from Ermengarde and from me. It will be good to have her home and not have to commune with her on a hospital visiting room floor.