Four Legged Family

5.19.25

Since losing Tyson, I am struggling with fear and heightened anxiety about the babies. It doesn’t help that Cricket and Pussy Galore have both gotten sick or injured recently. I convinced myself both times on the way to the vet that I would be leaving the vet clinic alone, yet again. I was so worked up that I was crying my eyes out and shaking. Thankfully, I left both times, only requiring antibiotics. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night to check if all the animals are breathing. If my daughter calls me unexpectedly, I’m sure either Chevy or Delilah is dying.

Writing about it helps me realize how irrational my fears are. I need to pry more and worry less about the things I can’t control. At this rate, I should probably marry a veterinarian as well. Or go back to school and become a veterinarian. I’d be 110 years old by the time I graduate. I love these four-legged terrorists so much. The thought of losing any of them is horrifying.