The Nursemaid

Hennessey, my black cat is hurt. He somehow got an abscess on his arm, we’re not sure how, that had to be taken care of. I took him to an emergency veterinarian clinic where they x-rayed his arm, shaved it and then cut open the abscess. He now has a swollen, hairless patch of skin and he is not happy. I have to give him an antibiotic twice a day and pain relief medicine when necessary. Both came in liquid form and neither is easy to get into him. Right now he is sleeping on the beat up old couch in the family room. (Beat up from cats using it as a scratching post.) He spends most of his days sleeping. The pain relief medicine has that effect.

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I have to get Hennessey up every few hours so that he exercises his legs a bit, has some food and water and uses the kitty litter box. I feel like a nursemaid, which I guess I am now. It makes me somewhat nervous that I have to give him the medicine. I always feel as if I’m doing it incorrectly. I had to google both medicines to make sure that I truly understand the instructions the veterinarian gave me. I seem to be doing it the right way but that doesn’t really assuage my fear. I just gave Hennessey some pain reliever and now I’m worried that maybe I should only give it to him at night, even though the doctor said he could get it every 8-12 hours. Maybe tomorrow I’ll only give him some at night to help him sleep. Yes, I worry too much.

I’m sitting in the family room watching him. My old dog is sleeping next to me while I study verbs and adverbs and nouns and pronouns and adjectives. It’s very quiet here today except for the buzz of the lawn mower and weed whacker being used by the hired gardener working next door. The family room has a large window that looks out onto the front yard. It’s cloudy today and it may rain. I can see the branches of the trees blowing about. I would like to go outside but it doesn’t look nice enough for a walk.

I guess the gardener has left as now it is very quiet. It’s really amazing how many sounds you can hear when it’s quiet. I hear the hum of the refrigerator and the tweeting of the birds outside. I hear the water heater kick on and the meows of some cats playing (or fighting) outside. I hear my own breathing. I love the quiet and the sounds of the neighborhood, even the lawn mowers and weed whackers and the few cars that come up my dead-end road.

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