TW: sick pet, pet death, pet loss, pet grief, medical environments, medical equipment, etc. 

Several weeks ago now, I got home late, high on the adrenaline of an incredibly fun and productive day in the studio to find the youngest in my family of cats, Sooty, collapsed in the garden, lethargic and clearly in pain. Despite having just driven for two hours, my Mum and I bundled her up in the cat blanket and got back in the car, headed for the out of hours vet. We arrived at about ten o’clock and she was whisked away, having only gotten more distressed during the drive. I wasn’t in denial – it was clear that something was wrong – but I was trying not to jump to the worst case scenario, at least until we had more information. I didn’t want to torture myself unnecessarily, especially since we didn’t know how long it would be before someone came back to give us an update. My hope, which I felt wasn’t desperately unrealistic, was that she’d eaten something bad for her or something like that and that dehydration from lying in the sun for who knows how long had worsened her condition; I hoped that, perhaps, if that dehydration could be resolved relatively easily, then whatever the bigger problem was wouldn’t be quite as serious as it appeared. Looking back, I don’t know if that was reasonable or unreasonable but I was just trying to get through each minute of waiting for an update.

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