Friday, January 13, 2012

small stones, day 13

the only black cat
is the shadow beneath all the chairs in
all the waiting rooms
that smell of disinfectant.
I know because I hung my head between my knees and
stared at all of them


Friday the thirteenth. Took my dog, Josie, to the vet because she's not been eating well for two days and she's been acting depressed. They found a mass on her spleen. Cue x-rays, ultrasounds, specialist vets, and now, at nearly eight at night, she's receiving a blood transfusion from a donor dog and preparing to go into surgery, where they might remove her spleen and its predatory mass, and they might let her go if they find more tumors than they could see on ultrasound. Neither of us said goodbye. I don't know what he said, exactly, but I said, I love you. Maybe ten times.

Now we are waiting.

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