The Princess and the Pee

Once upon a time, a mother who shall remain namless, told her son that if he wanted to some day own a dog, he should start with a fish. So begins our tale.

This has not been the year of pets.

The fish made it three months, as did the bearded lizard. Last fall, we welcomed Owl, aka Princess Fuzzy Butt, into our home. I felt confident in this adoption. I had owned a cat before so I knew the care and feeding that was involved. And for a while, things were great.

Until she climbed a screen in the window which promptly fell out, two stories to the ground. It is true, by the way, cats always land on their feet. But was that the omen I should have seen?

Yesterday I dropped PFB at the vet for routine kitten maintenance without a care. Two hours later, Dr. Warren informed me that PFB -- despite her kittenish enthusaism, vim and vigor -- was actually in renal failure for reasons unknown. He had run some routine blood work and the numbers were grim. Her kidneys were not up to the task. He was running some more tests and would let me know the results.

So began my downward spiral of mommy guilt. Obviously, losing three pets in one year is no way to raise a kid. Obviously I should have gotten him another fish and called it good. Obviously he would become a serial killer because every pet he ever had died. Obviously. Worst. Mother. Ever.

I shed tears. I vacuumed. I wondered if we could take her home to live her remaining days/weeks at home instead of the cold vet's office. Mostly I stewed.

Four hours later. Dr. Warren called again.

DW: "So I had the lab run her blood work and she's fine."

Me: "Uh, what? What? She's fine? But renal failure.... that's bad ... and you said... and she was not well... and..."

DW: "Well, it seems my machine is not working properly."

Me: "You realize I spent the whole afternoon grappling with how to tell my son we had to put his cat down. You REALIZE that don't you?"

DW: "Yeah. I did think about that. But it's all good. I feel bad for the people who sold me that machine. They are about to have a very uncomfortable conversation."

Me: "All afternoon, stewing, Dr. Warren. Stewing."

DW: "Hey, she's fine. Stop stewing now. We'll see you tomorrow when you pick her up."

Me: "I know how to find you, Dr. Warren. I'm just saying."

DW: silence "Yeah, so see you tomorrow then!"