Sad looking dogs, a love bird that was quiet and still, and a lot of nervous and bloodshot eyes on the humans. Sigh. Spent 3 hours waiting in the packed emergency room at Dove Lewis tonight with sweet, sick Picasso. Came home to find her hiding in the corner, not moving, and not coming when I called her. Knew something was wrong. She didn't recognize me. I'm really scared, and sad. She's staying the night and getting blood work and x-rays: something is wrong with her stomach because she hisses when you touch or squeeze it.
Picasso came to live with me right out of college when I was still living in Chico. She was the last of a litter of kitties at the pound, and she talked to me from the very beginning. Yes, she's a talker. I talk, she talks back. She talks, I say, "You don't say?" We have great conversations. She works with me in the garden, and goes everywhere I go around the house. At night, she demands her own pillow. She's my buddy, and has been for 13 years.
She even blogs with me.
I hope she's going to be okay.
wishing you and picasso prayers.
Poor lil thing....The do good work there at Dove Lewis, if Picasso can be fixed, they are the ones to do it.
Poor Picasso. I hope she'll be OK.
That waiting room at Dove Lewis is an intense place. I sat there for a few hours once when Rusty was having trouble breathing. I couldn't concentrate on anything except worry.
Sending positive vibes your way and Picasso's way.
Oh, I'm so sorry about your kitty. I too have spent hours at Dove Lewis (I was enormously pregnant and having contractions, luckily my hospital was Good Sam,)
They'll do the best that they can for her; she's in good hands.
Lots of good energy coming thru the internet...
Post a Comment