May was a pretty hard month; or well there was a week in it that was particularly... hard. In life people suffer loss, it's just one of those things and no matter how much we prepare ourselves or how much we think we'll be fine, we usually aren't. At least not for awhile. Ever since COVID the weeks and months just start to blur together and it gets hard to remember what I did in which month. Esp since I don't get out as much as I use to and so I don't take as many pictures as I use to either.

The week of Mother's Day Bubba was feeling worse than he had earlier so he took himself to the ER where he did test positive for COVID. He had been coughing for about a week and it was starting to get pretty bad. I had headaches (thankfully not migraines, ironically), body aches, dizziness and a low grade fever for about 2-3 days. Then I just didn't. I never had a full blown fever or coughing and congestion, at all. I retained my sense of smell and taste up until maybe the end of the week for about 2 days. Bubba had medicine and an inhaler to take. I just kept popping Emergen-C gummies and staying on top of my Vit C and trying to stay hydrated by drinking something other than soda all day. 

On Thursday that same week, my cat I adopted as a 30th birthday/post divorce gift in 2015 was having a rough day. She was diagnosed with kidney failure 5 years ago and since moving to TX she's just gotten progressively worse in various areas of her health. She started getting annual ear infections. That moved on to masses growing in her ears and eventually in her eye. She stopped bathing herself. And that's when things started to get bad really fast. The last week she hadn't been eating her medicated food but would eat human food; which she never really cared too much for anything besides cheese, whipped cream, vanilla ice cream and Cheetos. And yet the only thing she would fight you for was the cheese. Everything else, if you offered she would take. But beyond those human foods, she didn't care for anything else. She had also started crying day and night and no matter what we did to help, it just wouldn't stop.

The last time we brought her to the vet they found a mass growing behind one of her eyes, because of her age and her health they told us that they probably would decide against putting her under and taking care of the masses because it would probably hurt her more than help. We were also advised to consider not giving her rabies shots after a point, esp since she was a single indoor only cat.

So on this particular day, I noticed she seemed unable to move. Almost like she couldn't move her arms and legs. She sort of just laid there, like a pancake and hard a hard time breathing. I spent as much time as I could with her petting her and talking to her. Telling her it's okay and she did so good being the most amazing companion a person could ask for. I eventually had to go to bed because I was still recovering from COVID. 

By the time Bubba had gotten up Friday morning, she was gone.

In one week I had COVID and lost my best companion. I still don't really feel like talking to anyone about anything in particular. I'm at least feeling up to writing/blogging again but other than that... I'm just finding it to be too much energy to talk about anything. The house is a lot more quiet and feels a lot more empty without her here. Like something is definitely missing. I haven't lived anywhere in 6 years without her, and while I knew it was going to be hard, I still feel totally unprepared. It took me two weeks to really cry about it and now I just randomly burst into tears; it's like it just opened a whole gate of emotions.

Bub caught me crying one night and I woke up to these flowers and a sweet note from him and Tums.

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