The Big Trip to Ithaca
We take Mystie to Cornell tomorrow for radioactive iodine treatment for her thyroid. I have told her the plan, over and over, but with our cat - human language barrier, I am not sure if I am making myself clear. It is unlike anything we have ever done together in the last fourteen years. Yet, all day I told her: At 10:00 PM, we have to take your food bowl away. She went right to it at 9:58 PM, then downstairs to bed. Does she know she will be staying at Cornell for awhile, maybe a whole week, alone in a cage with only one other cat in the room? The anticipation of this separation is sapping me like a bad cold on a dank day. But I must remind myself that if all goes well, it will be a cure! She should add some flesh back to her thin little frame, gain weight and live longer than she would otherwise. The vet assured me she will visit Mystie two or three times a day, that she’ll leave her with a radio on. I told her Mystie likes Jazz and Blues. I forgot to tell her that she hates ads and news or too much commotion.)
We have already packed the GPS, the cat food, the X-rays, the medical records, our rain jackets and some kind of breakfast snack to make for a quick departure. I will hold her in the the cage in my lap for two hours, and reassure her, best as I can. If she rubs her face against my reaching, needy fingers, I will know she is trying to reassure me too.