Waiting for paperwork as the ancient little monster is admitted to the Night Owl Bird Hospital…the space feels as empty as the house will when I get home, because he is spending the night in a little intensive care incubator, and I can’t help thinking that he may not be coming home.
If that does turn out to be the case, it will be the fourth time we have said goodbye to a furred or feathered family member on a long weekend. Long weekends have become a bit anxiety inducing as a result.
He is about 35 years old, which is absolutely ancient for his species, which has a generally expected lifespan of about 25 years.
He has been a royal pain in the ass for the thirty-odd years he has coexisted with us. He has been loud, messy, destructive, petulant, cranky…and has outlived three cats.
But he has been our pain in the ass, and despite what a pain in the ass he has been, we still kinda love the little nutbar.
Because he is also entertaining, funny, crazy, super sociable, likes to meet new people, loves me, and has made life incredibly interesting.
I can’t kid myself, it’s not really a mystery, like Loki’s unsolved ailment was,… Gizmo is very, very, old, and he has a heart condition that we have been managing for a few years. But all things have a lifespan, and he’s been on borrowed time.
Thirty-plus years is a long time to have a pet.
The house is going to feel sad and empty tonight as I wonder how he is doing….and it’s going to feel very empty if things don’t turn around.
I’m trying to prepare for a broken heart….again…..
