My cat survived the night and looks to be on the mend.
Still, this is the second time he’s crashed like this in the last couple of months. One day, not too far in the future, he will slip through my fingers and there is nothing I can do. He’s 18, very old for a cat, and has survived multiple illnesses, being hit by cars, and two moves across several states. Eventually, his little body will wear out and he will shed it.
All I can do is make him as happy and comfortable as I can and enjoy his company in the moment.
Right now, my old friend is sleeping soundly next to me, and I can cherish him in this moment knowing he can’t stay much longer.
My next novel will be dedicated to him. Hopefully it won’t be “in memory of.”