Thursday, July 7, 2016

A Self-Imposed Exile

So on June 21, my beloved Millie passed away.  We are devastated.  We have no children.  She was our everything.

My school year was not to end on the same not it began.  Co-workers I once thought were friends and had since relegated to acquaintance status proved to be deceitful, cruel individuals.  I realized I had been used for several years and all the help, advice, and/or solace I gave over the years meant nothing in their quest to make it to the top.  So be it.  At least I had my wonderful students at work and Millie when I got home.

In May, Millie was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism.  At her check up in June, she showed progress in putting on weight.  She was still the same old frisky, fun, sass girl we have loved for 10 and a half years.  That was the Saturday before the last week of school.  This is a time of year that is hard for me because I have to say goodbye to my students who are graduating, the kids I have seen progress as artists and young adults.  It is always followed by a time of longing comforted by Millie's presence and the beginning of a relaxing summer vacation.

On Tuesday night, Millie woke us with a furious mouse chase - one parent and one child.  Hubby caught the parent and released him/her down the hill.  Millie came up to bed with us, purring like a champ.  The next morning she didn't eat.  Not uncommon after a chase like that.  She might have even caught the baby and eaten it.  We went out to dinner for our 20th anniversary that night.  She still wasn't eating.

Thursday, with all the stress of getting my grades in and the sadness of the last day with my kids, we ended up bringing Millie to the ER that night.  She was running a very high fever.  The source?  Possibly and infection of unknown origin.  We were baffled.  She does not go out.  We have few to no visitors.  No shoes are worn in the house.  We have no other pets.  The only place she went was the vet.  At first, I got the feeling the ER vet thought the infection was due to some carelessness on our part.  As she heard more, she showed a change in demeanor and seemed concerned about the mysterious source of the infection.  Her x-rays showed the regular slightly rounded or enlarged heart and a healthy colon full of poop.  Just this damn infection and fever..  Which could be very damaging.  We brought her home with a prescription for antibiotics.  In addition to this, at our union dinner earlier that evening, I find out that there has been petty drama and lying regarding my LAT position and actions.  While no one knows what is going on at home, is the end of the year dinner really the time to bring this up when it has apparently been going on behind my back for weeks?  Apparently my colleagues think so.

Friday, Millie was weaker and still not eating.  I had to go to work, knowing I had to get her to the doctor before I had to get back to work for graduation.  The union bullshit continued that day and I found out that a whole hell of a lot went on without my knowledge.  I realized that yet another individual I counted on had deceived me.  On top of all this, it is quickly dawning on me that Millie might not make it.  I took her to the vet and he is confounded by the source of the infection.  I am given special food, a feeding syringe, and instructions on hand feeding her along with an additional antibiotic.  The vet tech tells me her cat had something similar and was fine after seven days on the antibiotic.  At this point Millie is hiding and not playful at all.  Leave there with some home that this will right itself in a week.   I make it to graduation, watch my darlings graduate, knowing we will never see each other again.  Millie is still not eating and even worse.

The weekend is spent in a struggle to feed her.  I know something isn't right, but follow all instructions.  All we do is hang out with her.  I skip going to a friend's birthday celebration at the club and sleep with Millie all night on the sofa, hugging her.  By Monday morning, she starts to show some spark.  Even my mother sees this.  It was not to be.  After returning from a doctor's appointment, while preparing dinner, Millie starts to breathe funny, with her mouth open,  Her skin and gums start to look a little yellow, liver signs.  Her temperature was dropping and her paws were cold.  I call the ER.  They tell me to bring her right away.  I drive her there with my hand on her carrier pleading with her not to die.  They took her right away.  She was put on a breathing machine, her temp kept dropping.  She was possibly going into organ failure.  We left here there overnight but we did not sleep.  We knew she might not make it through the night.

At a little after 6.00 am, we got a call.  She was not doing too well and had nearly maxed out on the three types of medicine.  We went straight over.  We hugged her and kissed here.  Let her know how much we loved her.  They were taking such good care of our baby.  Hubby couldn't handle being in the room, so it was just me and Millie when she was put to sleep.  The tech who brought her in was near tears.  I think, in some way, Millie's special-ness was clear to those who encountered her, even in the ER.  I hugged, kissed, and soothed her as she went to sleep.

Her ashes and a last paw print are encased and on a sideboard in our dining room.  I spend my summer days gardening, reading, and watching the birds, chipmunks, and squirrels in the yard.  It is incredibly lonely, but we are working through it.  In one week I lost my beloved students and my baby Millie.  The people who have been the kindest are the former students, family, and my club friends.  I miss her a great deal.  This house is too big and too quiet.

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