Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I will have the smallest moment of panic. I worry if I gave Stump his pills. Stump isn’t with us anymore so it only takes a second to go away.
Today, I got a familiar, but not the same, text from my husband. Only this time, instead of Stump, the med check was for Haas. His medication is for something much more minor–an infected toe. I found the morning routine of loading up pill pockets to be strangely…comforting? soothing? normal, maybe. It isn’t our normal anymore, but it was for almost a year.
The new fuzzy face was much more enthusiastic about taking meds and ran off happily to play with his brothers. I still miss the old fuzzy face who would begrudgingly swallow a meal’s worth of pills to treat congestive heart failure and epilepsy before lying in the bathroom doorway to watch me get ready for work. I miss him but I am glad he doesn’t hurt anymore.
I am especially grateful that Haas only has a few more days and he will be back to being medication-free. I feel blessed that my boys are happy, healthy, and playful even if that means I will spend forever cleaning up after them. I’m not even too upset that they ate the vent covers for the space under our house.
Someday, they may need maintenance meds and help up off the floor but until then, I won’t borrow trouble and I will laugh at a 100 pound puppy bouncing around leaving slobber trails while trying to get Dad to play chase. I’ll even forgive him for pulling my nativity’s Mary out of a box and trying to eat her. (She’s fine)