Gaping Holes and Massive Dents

Then he died.   Moby passed while he was still at the top of his game.  He didn’t get old and crotchety, he got kidney stones.  Our wallets groaned at our futile efforts to save him and when he expired, just two years after we’d adopted him, he left a gaping hole in our lives, a massive dent in our wallets and white fur all over our furniture.

Molly came came out to play when Moby passed; picked up where she’d left off two years previously.  Of course she had a lot of weight to gain having gone down to skin and bones during her self enforced banishment.  She became friendly with a skittish streak and took up bossing Watson again.  When he died, old and crotchety, she positively glowed enjoying the status of sole pet to the extent that she became needy and companionable.  She would squeeze between me and my book when she sat on my lap, she’d sleep on our pillows at night, snoring gently, until we noticed because of our sneezing, and push her off.  She’d camp out on the kitchen table waiting for mealtimes and regained her pre Moby weight.  Then, last year, I noticed she had a lopsided smile on her face.  I pointed it out to my son during one of his trips home from college and he shrugged his shoulders and chose to ignore the warning signs.  She slowly grew a tumor.  It didn’t hurt her and the vet said we could choose to treat it with radiation and surgery.  Neither of these procedures were guaranteed to be successful.  Our wallets couldn’t endure another beating so we decided to love her until she could eat no more.

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