I volunteer at our local animal shelter, the LA-SPCA, a few days a month (read: month).
I clean cages, change liter, feed, groom, sweep, exercise, snuggle, and sometimes adopt an animal.
For my own.
Never to be returned.
Ben is begging me to give up this altruistic bent as least as living things are concerned (OK, but you might be the first on the list Sweetie), except once in a while, you just lock eyes with an angel from Heaven, and she gives you a sweet nudge, and smells soooo good, and wants to canoodle, and is as small as a teapot (and ya know how much I like tea) and has the goofiest disposition, and, and…has a r-e-a-l-l-y wonky leg (Like it won’t bend, and sticks straight out, and she throws it up over her back when it gets in the way).
Well, you know that’s just the one I HAVE to have (of course).
Home she goes and meets her brothers and we have such a wonderful little kitty family now, but she needs to see a doctor so off we go.
This week, after seeing several specialists, and spending much moola, Peggy is having her left hind leg amputated.
Ooohhhh, it makes me cringe just to write it!
I will be holding my breath and playing nurse to the sweetest little dumpling a creamy pot of love sauce has ever had the pleasure of being combined with.
(Why is it that I MUST find a way to fold in a food metaphor at every turn of the whisk?)
Answer: Because I’m half-baked and toasted with worry.
|That appendage off to photo right-
is Peggy’s left hind leg-
standing at attention-
like a wooden spoon
(there I go again!)