Boots has crystals in the urine. My mom had the same. A couple of times. She needs a special diet. Special meaning expensive. Not my mom. Boots. I took responsibility when her future seemed in doubt. Financial responsibility like child support. She can’t live with me. I love her though she can be quite the needy pain in the ass. But she warms my heart when she gives me that hug and in-your-face attention. Quite literally a hug with paws around my neck. But then I want her to quit. She has trouble quitting. Separation anxiety. I have to be quite stern to get her off me.
But darn it. No more trouble. I don’t want to be needed anymore. I want to focus only on my needs now. Just stop it. Stop giving me more responsibility for care and feeding. Everyone take a piece of responsibility and pass it around.
But hey, This is just a little pity party for something quite insignificant. Not to Boots who is having accidents. Absolutely the worse thought to have trouble with bodily functions in old age. I say it’s time to check out when others need to wipe my butt. But who knows? I did it for my babies and my parents.
This really is nothing though. Just making a mountain out of a molehill. Happens sometimes that one thing just one thing too many. Then it all falls back into perspective. It’s nothing.