She's Alive!

:::UPDATE:::

Spoke again with the vet this afternoon. Sapphira did show interest in food when it was offered, and that's a very good sign I guess. But she has developed a fever, which, while not unexpected, is nevertheless of concern. They're going to keep her overnight to monitor the fever, administer fluids and antibiotics, and in the morning run another blood test to check her liver function. I'll keep updating as I learn more. Thanks for checking on us.


Just spoke with the vet and Sapphira made it through the night!! Obviously she's not out of the woods as she still cannot eat or drink on her own, but the vet has increased her possibility of recovery greatly now. I'm so relieved I could cry again, but I think I'll take a shower instead and get about my day.

Thank you all for stopping by and caring, and sending emails... sometimes I'm so grateful to have this blogging community -- seriously, you guys(and I use that in the most gender-neutral sense of the word) are awesome!!

Oh, and I've been thinking about the suggestion made by some of you that perhaps Brizzy didn't cause this; but, we have a six-foot privacy fence AND a golden retriever. If any other critter had been in the yard, Brizzy would have barked himself silly. And Sapphira couldn't have climbed back into the yard in her condition if it had happened beyond our borders. So, I think in his puppy exuberance, he just didn't realize how comparatively fragile a 5-lb kitten is and how forceful a 70-pound dog is. I am convinced he didn't mean to hurt her, he just played waaaaaaaaaaay too rough.

Thanks again for the hopes and kind thoughts -- with Mr. Eclectic out of town, I really needed you guys (again with the gender-neutral intent).

When a good dog goes bad.

Sapphira may be dying. In fact, as you read this, she may have already passed away.

I heard a strange sound as I was closing down the house for bed. It was strange enough that I went out back to investigate, and there she was, lying on her side in the grass, the fur around her middle all matted down with dog slobber. But she didn't move, and her breathing made an odd, raspy sound and was more shallow and rapid than it should be. I scooped her up and brought her inside, scolding Brizzy for being too rough, and called the emergency vet. As I drove to the vet, tears rolled down my face. How could this happen? They are buddies! And Brizzy was clearly confused by her demeanor, not triumphant or dominant at all. What was he thinking, and why didn't she swat him like she usually does if he gets out of line?

We'll never know, I guess. But for now she's lying in a cage at the vet, fluids running through an IV, with air in her chest wall, a torn and bleeding liver, and an estimated 40% chance of survival. I know she's only a cat afterall, but she's our cat and we love her. And I'm crying myself to sleep. Please hope with me that she's still alive in the morning.

AWOL

***peeking around the corner***


Hello? Is anybody here?? *sigh* I guess I can't blame you for taking off -- I've been, shall we say, sporadic at best in my attendance here. I've a host of lovely excuses, but since none of them are life-threatening or the least bit interesting, I'll forego naming them. (W O R K, K I D S, F L U, C O M P A N Y)

As a reward for your patience, I'll share with you a conversation held with my 9-year-old son yesterday:

ME: Have you fed the cat?

SON: She's not a cat.

ME: She's not?

SON: No. She's my wife.

ME: ***blink, blink***

SON: I'm serious. I married her in the garden. [Sister's name] was a witness.
***pause***

So... now can she sleep on my bed?

Announcing:

First, let me offer my sincere thanks to you all for stopping by, whether you ended the story or not. Second, virtually every ending offered made me shiver, laugh, or otherwise react in some way. I love that! Third, I'm sorry I'm such an absentee contest administrator. I'd tell you how busy I've been, but really, who cares? Everyone's busy. Fourth, I couldn't decide on just one, so I've divided the entries into categories, as follows:


~Made Me Laugh the Most
The Envelope please: ***drumroll***
Goes to Brandon for including bald-faced hornets AND Steve Perry.
~Honorable Mention in this category goes to Peefer.



~Most Believable
The Envelope please: ***drumroll***
Goes to Rick, although I maintain that the dog was in the house at the time.


~Most Inspirational
The Envelope please: ***drumroll***
Goes to Lynn, for making me think of my Gramma.


~Most Thought-Provoking
The Envelope please: ***drumroll***
Goes to Sheryl, for the startling re-discovery.


~Most Predictable
The Envelope please: ***drumroll***
Goes to Limpy,for being the one I predicted would take the naked theme and run with it.


~Most Bizzare
The Envelope please: ***drumroll***
Goes to Scott for the Pterodactyl that owes me twenty bucks.



And now, the moment you've waited (and waited... and waited) for:

~The Overall Winner goes to Caitlin, because the idea of a drunken garden gnome named Chuck in my yard is irresistable.


Congratulations, Caitlin! Email me at sbhhe@juno.com with the address you'd prefer I use to send you your modest prize.

Thanks everyone for playing along!!

Finish This

:::skritch, scratch:::




:::skritch, scratch:::




The incessant but intermittent nature of the sound made it impossible to ignore. "Damn," she thought, the pressure from promises made and deadlines approaching making her loathe to investigate the origin of the noise.



:::skritch, scratch:::


"That's it," she muttered, pushing away from the keyboard and clutching her robe more closely about her. Impatiently she strode through the house to the back door, intent on a spot just behind the garden window. Flipping on the deck light, she half-expected a raccoon or other pest to be momentarily frozen by the sudden beam of light, eyes yellowed in reflection. Instead, nothing. She poked around a bit, and, satisfied that whatever it was had gone, returned inside to work. No more had she settled back into a rhythym than :::skritch, scratch::: the sound came again.


***
***

What happens next in 8 sentences or less? A modest prize to the author of the ending I like best. Ready? GO!

Enchantment

An exquisite moment. A blissful sigh. Transitory perfection.






Life seems to be measured by such events, the majority of it slogging along between them, anticipating the next or remembering the previous.

Which, on balance, seems such a shame.

A few random snapshots