This isn’t so much an in depth deeply moving post as much as it is a celebration of life for my girl Bailey. She’s made it to the ripe old age of 19, which is roughly 92 in human years. She’s the best cat we’ve had and when I think back on my life before it’s really hard to remember it all. She’s been here since 2002 and I pray that she remains healthy for as long as she can.
I feel selfish asking for more time with her, but the thought of her not being here after 19 years is just something I can’t fathom in my life. As a semi-religious person, I know that I will see her one day. She’s going to join my other cats in the big litter box in the sky.
So, join me in celebrating Bailey aka Boo for the time she has left with me.
Sitting here reading advice from a Mystery writer mentor while perusing the site and advice of a different author whose work I admire, about rewriting and revising and showing versus telling. It’s all too much for my brain at almost 8:30 am on a Monday morning.
So, instead I come here and write. Where I’m not being judged. Where no one is determining if my plot or arc are working together. I don’t even know how to break all this down.
I have a wonderful lady editing my work currently and will give out her information if someone should ask for it. I’m waiting to hear back from her before I make all the changes all at once. I want to hear her opinion and her corrections before I do my major overhaul.
Trying to talk myself back from tears at this entire process. If only writing were as easy as simply putting words out on paper and everyone liked it, agents included. 🙂
Ah, if only.
The other reason the tears are near the surface is because my Bailey has been diagnosed with hyperthyroidism and her kidney’s are a bit quirky. She’s now on special food, medication, and I have to give her fluids 2-3 times a week. She’s due for a recheck in a couple of weeks.
It’s hard to see her, knowing her life is winding down, and there’s not anything I can do about it. Excuse me while I go find the tissues again.