Balance

It's strange how the world works. One moment, you're flying higher than a kite, the next, you're crashing to the ground.

Two days ago, we were ecstatic to find out that a friend of ours is finally having her long-wanted baby.

Today, we are having a little personal tragedy of our own. This is a picture of our beloved cats, Spencer (the grey cat on the left) and his brother, Dexter. Dexter hasn't been doing too well these last few weeks. He's been vomiting almost on a daily basis, and hasn't been his normal perky self. I attributed it to the move. They are fifteen years old, and moves are very stressful. D said that he didn't think that it was the move; he said, "I think Dexter is dying."


Today, we got him into the vet, and she confirmed D's premonition. Dexter has cancer. A lump about the size of a tennis ball is growing on his pancreas. The reason for the vomiting is that his stomach has been pushed out of place by this growth, and he can't keep anything down. He is basically starving to death.

After the vet visit, I explained to TMO that Dexter isn't feeling well, and we have to be very gentle with him. Dexter went into one of his favourite spots, the storage room under the stairs, and she followed him in there. It was very quiet, so I peeked in, and O was sitting next to him, "reading" him a story. When she came out, she looked at me quizzically and asked "Mommy crying?"

How can I explain to her that her beloved "Decky" has to go to sleep?