In which I’m writing not because I have any news but to keep from crying, because that’s how I roll.

I slept until ten, mostly to avoid being conscious, I think. As soon as I woke I started thinking until I was pretty miserable again. Called the vet. “I was calling to check up on how Bindu’s doing, and to see if Dr Alexis had gotten her lab results yet?”

I spent a couple of brief minutes on hold, then the tech came back on. “The doctor says she’s still waiting on the lab work, but you’re welcome to come pick Bindu up?” The end statement was delivered as a question, and I knew the tech didn’t understand why the dog was still there.

I felt a stab of guilt and shame that I’d left her there to avoid having to witness her distress. “I just– It isn’t– But there hasn’t been any– Um, okay.” I said. “I’ll be there in a bit. Thank you. Very much.”

I got up. Poked around in the kitchen, but still couldn’t eat or drink anything. Took a shower. Dressed. Saw G’ma off to her afternoon of lunch and cards. Got in the truck. Drove across town. Walked into the lobby of the vet clinic.

The tech gave me my total and asked if I had questions. I did have questions, yes, thank you. I managed not to cry while delivering them. The tech gave me a sympathetic look and dashed off to get the vet. I took a seat.

Dr Alexis is utterly wonderful. She’s young and present and has that healthy outdoorsy look you want in a vet. She sat with me for awhile, was incredibly sympathetic and communicative, and told me she’d call my cell as soon as she had the tests back. We talked about heart disease and Cushing’s and symptom management and pain and all that; she said that if the results say a particular thing she’s already got a treatment modality chosen. If they say something else, well, we’ll talk about that when she calls. I told her all about the night before last and how difficult it is to have Bindu suffering. Yeah, I cried. I told her I have a gig tonight and that I don’t feel okay leaving a distressed animal home with my 88-year-old grandmother; she said I could kennel Bindu there overnight if that would ease things.

Oh, God. Okay, an option. But what kind of pet owner kennels her dog just to avoid dealing with symptoms?

I brought Bindu home. She’s clearly not comfortable. Constant panting, some coughing. She won’t settle; she seems agitated. I don’t know if it’s the Cushing’s or her heart, but whatever it is, it looks very much like distress to me. I keep expecting her to have another terrifying fainting episode, or a seizure – or to just up and die on me. No one lying comfortably on the couch should be panting like she just ran around the block like that.

~+~+~
My laptop battery died, so I’ve escaped to the basement to plug it in. I left my panting, distressed dog upstairs. In one sense, she’s fine; she’s home, and there’s food and water and plenty of places to lie down… it’s just that I’m abandoning her because I’m a coward.