Martha has trouble walking up the stairs now. She takes each step one at a time, slowly. Every night she makes the long walk up the stairs to lay beside our bed.
When I got out of bed this morning I stepped on a wet spot. Did I spill a glass of water? No, it was Martha. She peed on the carpet. She didn’t bark to be let out.
I thought she was dying. The beginning of the end.
The veterinarian said she has a bladder infection. Martha has to take medicine with her dog food. One pill in the morning and one pill at night for twenty days.
I probably wouldn’t have cried if the veterinarian hospital wasn’t the same one I took Pooh’s body to when he died last year on April 1st. The same hospital I picked up Pooh’s ashes in a little box, in a small bag.
If tears could keep a pet alive longer…
Pooh was a writer. He had his own blog at thecatwhowrites.com. Harper, the kitten, is the writer there now. Sometimes Martha guest posts.
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This month I am sharing small slices of my everyday life at two writing teachers. com. Please click on the orange slice to read other March writers. So many stories.