Monday night about 11ish, Joanne came in to wake me and tell me she was sick. She looked horrible – in fact, the very worst I’ve seen her in 26 years. (Flannel jammies, aside.)
So I got up to help her and take care of things around the house a bit – settle the pack down a bit, make sure Joanne had what she needed to be comfortable and then I headed off back to bed.
Next morning I woke up sicker than a dog. Whatever Joanne had the night before, I had in spades, too. For the next 36 hours or so both Joanne and I were unable to do much / take care of much around the house (Thx, Ellen! for picking up ginger ale, gatorade and checking in on us). I’m sure we slept at least 32 of those 36 hrs. I couldn’t help but notice every time I woke up, Pan was beside me on the bed / couch / wherever I was, she was always there.
Eventually, Joanne began “responding to the bell” before I did and put fresh food out for Pan since Pan hadn’t touched her food in over a day. No response from Pan (if it were Dee, the second she heard the opening of the can, she’d have left me in a Campbell Minute* – assuming she would have been by my side in the first place!). But when I got up to go to the kitchen for a few minutes on Wed, Pan jumped up to “her” island and ate both bowls.
I said to Joanne, “That’s odd – Pan just two bowls of food, gobbled them right down.” Joanne said, “She hasn’t left your side for 2 days. She wouldn’t eat. She wouldn’t drink… I was worried about you both. Now that you’re up a bit, she’ll eat and return to normal on your schedule.”
I think I’ve said it here before: We’d always been dog people. Never had a cat of my own. Didn’t want a cat of my own – everybody knows they’re aloof and self-centered. Clearly, not true.
Joanne and I are almost back to normal, now (thx for asking and…)
Thx for stopping by, be well until next time and don’t forget to write when you get work.
* I’ll tell you what a Campbell Minute is in an upcoming post.