Molly’s tumor grew. After a year she could hardly open her mouth. Yawning looked painful and her meow had been reduced to a whispered, growly purr. For months I fed her soft food which she shoved into her mouth with her front paws. The kitchen floor bore Friskies tracks because she lost the ability to wash her food encrusted paws. Our son would bathe her when she began to smell like a fish market, which was often.
Her eyes were bright and she loved to be petted, if we could stand to be around her. She dropped back to her post Moby weight and her fur began to matt. Finally, yesterday, my youngest daughter and I decided to be merciful and put her out of her misery. We carried her to the car leaving behind grown, crying, men who were under orders to dig a hole next to Moby down in the back forty. There she lies, asleep, alongside her arch-enemy.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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