Still Learning

My Aunt Margaret, the woman who first taught me about learning to “speak dog,” is still teaching me.

On her last day in the hospital, Margaret implored me to come, stay with her when she got home. Her usually strong voice quivered, faltering over the words, “Patty, I want you to come and stay with me, when I get out of the hospital. I’m on oxygen. There’s fluid on my heart and lungs. I’m having a hard time breathing, and my back still hurts.”

“Yes, Maam, I’ll be there as soon as I can get organized.” “Patty, you need to come to New Orleans anyway. You have that expensive storage locker. You can use my truck to move that stuff to a better location or sell it. You need to cut down on your expenses or you won’t have enough to live on. You live too far from home. If anything happened to you; what would I be able to do from here?”

“My dear heart, Adri, will take the dogs, but I want to bring Smoki. He’s going to be seventeen years old. Its bad enough he lost Kirt. He’s used to being with me. I’ll have to get his travel papers. When are you being discharged?”

“I have a cat. My cat DOES NOT go in my house; does your’s go in the house? Margaret queried in a less faltering voice.

Smoki, the cat in question purred into the phone, as I stroked his chin. “Yes, Aunt Margaret, he’s in bed with me now.” I put the phone near Smoki, so she could hear him purr.

“You have a cat in the bed with you,” she fairly boomed. “Yes, Maam,” I snickered while tickling the two dogs on the foot of my bed with my toes. “I don’t keep animals in my house; see if your friend will keep him,” she said in her end of subject voice.

I decided not to ask her if Smoki could sleep in the bathroom where her little Jack Russell, Daisy Duke used to sleep. “Margaret, he’s an old cat, he’s all I have left from Kirt, and our years in Yorkville. I don’t know, if he’ll make it, but I also don’t know if he’ll make it in cold weather, so let me think about it. When are you being discharged?”

“Tomorrow, they’re going to send me home with oxygen, my insurance only pays for four days in the hospital for this and I’ve been here too long. They haven’t done a thing for me, I feel just as bad as I did when I first came in here.”

“Margaret, who’s taking you home? Is Harry taking you home or Mike? Are you going home, or will you stay somewhere else?”

“I don’t know who’s taking me home. I suppose Mike is; I’ll know when tomorrow gets here. In the mean time I’ll say good night to you and speak with you tomorrow.”

I responded, “Good night, Aunt Margaret, I love you,” and hung up.

Margaret likes to convalesce without intrusion, so the first week after her procedure, I wasn’t worried, but midway into the second week I began to worry about her, good gosh, I just lost my husband; I want to spend time with my aunt, but didn’t want to go there until spring, well, what I wanted isn’t too important right now.

Think straight, get organized, there’s so much to do. Kirt’s ashes are still on the night stand; should I do something with them? Robert Redford and Lucky need booster shots; can’t forget.  Where’s Margaret going? I’d better call in the morning before she’s discharged, so I have the number. Need to give the dogs’ heart worm med before I go. How long can Margaret stay at Mike’s house? I know she hates to be away from home. I hope she’s going to be okay.

Wow, I’m going to New Orleans. I’m going to miss my dogs, maybe, I shouldn’t take the cat. He likes Adri. The trip could be hard on an old cat. He likes to go out, but he’s an inside cat. Margaret’s big unneutered male might rip up my little guy. She lives in the country without a dog to bark. I would be better off bringing Chi-Ping, at least, she’ll bark to let me know someone’s coming.

I’m spinning, too much sudden change, and a feeling of dread, so I decided to think of all the questions. Solutions will be had in the morning.
To be continued.