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On Hiatus, for the worst possible reason
I was about to write my cat but if the last few days have taught me anything, Tulum was not my cat. He and Fido only ever belonged to each other.
Tulum never rallied again after taking that fall I mentioned last week. He ate and drank only a little bit all weekend. A couple times he sneezed so hard, he actually knocked himself over.
On July 12, after discussing it with his vet, and due to the fact that there was really nothing to be done to improve his quality of life, Tulum died. He was 18 years and three months old.
Obviously there are no words right now.
There was one bright spot in the whole day. A woman bringing her dog in for an appointment saw me crying outside the vet’s and asked me if I was okay. I said I was not. She asked if she could give me a hug. I said yes. She asked if she could get me a coffee or a tea or something? I said that a water would be great. This stranger actually got in her car, went and bought me a bottle of water, and brought it back. Her name was Amy.
There's only one rule that I know of, babies — “God damn it, you've got to be kind.”
Good night, babies.