During the course of your life, you probably don't often know ahead of time that a particular day will hold any meaning. Then, something occurs that marks that day forever. It could be a surprise marriage proposal or the sudden passing of a dear friend. You didn't expect either one and now each year, on that day, you'll think about those events all over again.
August 16, 2006 was the day after my Mother died and the day I took her cat, Bob Dole, home with me. I didn't intend on keeping him. I had six cats at the time and felt that was my limit. I had plenty of family members with just one cat or none, who could have taken him, but no one stepped forward. As Bob's many medical issues came to light, I realized I wouldn't feel comfortable with him living anywhere but with me. Who would care that his teeth were bad or that he had become diabetic? And also, Bob was my last link to my Mother. He needed to stay with me.
©2006 Robin A.F. Olson. The day Bob arrived.
I remember bringing Bob home from the Vet. We had to have in shaved down. His coat was badly matted. He seemed sad. He really did. He lived in my foster room, what ended up being for three months. I wanted him to be healthy and ready to meet my cats and have them be ready to meet him. The introductions were done slowly, a bit at a time and when Bob left the foster room, he never looked back. He became the Ambassador of my home, the first one to greet a visitor and “The Boss” of the other cats.
©2008 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob in 2008 after being in intensive care for 12 days.
In May of 2008, I had a bad scare. Bob's health deteriorated. He was hospitalized for two weeks. I did everything I could to find out what was wrong. The diagnosis was pancreatitis, but because it's tough to diagnose without doing exploratory surgery, we never found out for sure what it was. My friend, Jennifer, got me an appointment with an animal communicator in hopes that Bob would tell us something. All I found out was that Bob wanted to come home if that could happen, but he was okay with dying. He wasn't afraid, but he was in a lot of pain.
It's almost December 20, 2010. That will be a day I mark in my book as the day Bob had his surgery. It will be the day we find out more about this 5cm mass that envelopes his right liver lobe. We'll find out if tomorrow is Bob's last day on Earth, or if that day is fast approaching. We find out if Bob has another life left of his nine-that perhaps, we'll be lucky and the mass will be removed and Bob will feel better than he has in a long time.
©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob this past summer.
I want to prepare myself for what is to come. I want to be able to control things. I want to tell myself if I am positive in my thinking or if I pray or if I hope or if I make some sort of bargain, that I can make Bob be OKAY, but I know I can't. Being a Buddhist reminds me to not cling to anything, that a life is like a pebble in a stream, bouncing along, getting stuck against other pebbles, then getting unstuck for a time and moving along, then getting stuck again and so on. There's something beautiful and bittersweet about letting go and just moving along with the flow of life. But I wish I was better practiced at doing so, because I want to make a bargain. I want Bob to be all right, but in the end it's already happened. What's going on inside Bob's body has been going on for some time. Tomorrow we mark the day of knowing, at last, what it is, if it can be removed or if it means the end of the road for one very special, very lovely orange tomcat named, Bob.
Bob's surgery is tomorrow, Monday, at some time in the afternoon. I'll know at noon (EST) what the exact time will be. By this time tomorrow, I'll have the answers whether I like it or not.
Prayers, good vibes, whatever you got, is welcome...bring it on, for Bob.