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| Yesterday, when I thought all hope was gone. I thought that today, too, actually. Photo copyright Wings, 2014; all rights reserved. |
Thank you to everyone who has sent kind words, good thoughts, prayers, whatever healing practices your traditions employ, all on Lilith's behalf. We owe you more than we can say right now.
Yesterday morning, she drank a bit of broth — and promptly upchucked it and everything she'd eaten Friday night. She refused to eat for the rest of the day, and drank water only twice that I know of. Today, she'd eaten a very little bit of food this morning, and a few tiny pieces of cooked chicken from Wings's hand, and nothing else. She hasn't been able to stand up under her own power since last night.
Until now.
I had to run up to the little store in the village two miles up the road to pick up half-and-half for Wings's coffee. I left her inside on her doggie bed, and although the metal trash can contained food scraps, I didn't bother covering it, because, you know, she couldn't stand without one of us lifting her.
I just came inside. Her bed was empty. I blinked, saw her standing precariously by the trash can, and nearly dropped everything, thinking she was upchucking again.
Oh, no.
She had hauled herself laboriously to her feet, hauled the remnants of last night's homemade pizza out of the trash can, and was furiously horking all the pepperoni off it as fast as she could.
She's drunk some water, been outside, and has now collapsed in here again.
But the cover's back on the trash can.
Copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.
