Our dear cat, Zara, had a long bout at the vet Friday.
I had noticed a bit of blood on the rim of her litter box and phoned our vet to get an appointment.
When I contacted a second clinic, they said they would squeeze her in.
Brian aways does the "vet run" and I became worried when they were gone for over an hour.
As well as UTI, the doctors found evidence of kidney trouble.
For the infection, Brian was given 20 pills with instructions to give Zara 2 a day.
Remembering our cats in Duncan, we were prepared for a struggle.
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The bath towel was ready to wrap Zara, the mouth to be held open, the throat rubbed to make her swallow the pill.
The battle was on!
4 times we tried, 4 times we failed.
I texted a friend, asking if she'd help me the following morning.
And then Brian added a Greenies treat with the pill, next to her on her favourite chair.
She simply ate the treat and then the pill!
WHAT@*!
I saw how I had anticipated and then prepared for combat when peace was a viable option. It was my first response.
I saw too how old stories can influence actions today.
From this pill episode, I've had an "aha" moment, noticing that when Brian does (or doesn't do) something to upset me, I too often put om my boxing gloves.
There is always another option.
An option that promotes connection rather than one that requires an apology.
It pains me to see much of the world in crisis mode that involves little or no respect.
War, discrimination, thwarted attempts to find safety, greed and incarceration.
And great harm to our plant.
An apology is not enough.
