The Hospital Called…

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The veterinary hospital phoned us last night at 10:30–suddenly sick to the stomach. Had to answer it, though.

They’d done some tests, had Peep under observation for five hours, drained fluid from her chest, and so far hadn’t found anything very alarming. After they got the fluid out, the doctor said, she had a much easier time breathing. They’ll do more tests today, and advised us not to sit there waiting for the phone to ring. “If we don’t call,” she said, “no news is good news.” But they will report later in the afternoon. There might be some heart disease that can be controlled with medication.

It wasn’t exactly a rosy report last night, but it was a lot less horrible than we feared. It allowed us to go to bed with some hope.

Yes, I know there are those who would say, “Why so much fuss over a cat?” Well, sunshine, live long enough for most of your loved ones to die or move hundreds of miles away, and you’ll get some idea of what our pets mean to us. Peep loves us, and that ministers to our souls.

Just a little something God thought of when He was creating life on earth… which we wouldn’t have thought of at all.

Please continue to pray for us.

(And the &^%$& phone just rang–with a nuisance robot call! Grrr!)

 

5 comments on “The Hospital Called…

  1. I understand how important Peep is to you, and am praying this will turn out well.

    1. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve lost a beloved pet, but every time hurts just as much.

      Forty-plus years ago we lost Patty’s dog and my iguana (had him 17 years) on the same weekend.

      Every time is just awful.

  2. Every time a loved one dies (even if it was a pet), it is just awful. That bond of love, many form with their pets is very strong. And when death pulls them away, it truly leaves an emptiness in their lives.

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