Little whine
You are all more than welcome to skip on by and do something more fun. I feel a bit sorry for myself this evening. Take five minutes and I'll be done moaning.
Charlie is passing blood. He seems fine in himself, and he has always suffered from bowel problems. The blood is new, and I am worried. Not just because we are leaving for the US next week and he will be in the cattery, but he has already been through so much.
If he needs treatment, he needs to be taken to the vets. And that means the carrier. After having been trapped, caged, transported, caged again and then brought here, he is terrified whenever it comes out. His breathing is affected and you can see sheer terror and panic in his eyes. It is so hard to do that to him. He doesn't hold a grudge, but he finally trusts me, and I have to do that to him. I'm scared that he will lose that trust and we will back at square one.
Charlie needs me in a way the others don't. They have known nothing but a secure and happy home. Charlie knows what things can be like, and he has learnt to trust me. Trust that I will feed him. Trust I will let him in the house whenever he wants to come in from outside. Trust that I won't hurt him. So it hurts to think that I might have to do some things that although with the best of intentions, might hurt and scare him.
The Baron is also driving me mad. I know that giving up smoking is hard - I don't doubt that for a minute. But his constant mood swings and persistant whining is just doing my nut. And of cours, I can't say a word. All I can do is hold his hand, hug him, kiss him and tell him how amazingly well he is doing.
And he is. I am so proud of just how well he is doing. I just need to have some time by myself, but he is suffering little panic attacks when the cravings hit hard and he doesn't want to be alone. So I am finding this tough. Not as bad as him, of course. And he can't know.
There you have it. Moan over.
In other news, I am debating chopping all my hair off.
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