After spending Saturday and Sunday in New York, I rested on Monday. The days prior were emotionally exhausting. Traveling the four hours to Brooklyn to attend my grandmother’s funeral services. Seeing her there, speaking about what she meant to me and realizing that I won’t see her until I die, was difficult. Then, the drive home, felt endless. I did the driving. Got home and I just stood in bed until late.
Tuesday came and I thought that after breakfast, I’d go upstairs and start working. Negative. I had given the boys their usual dental bone. Stood in the same area as they ate it. It was the same routine they’ve had since 2017. All get a dental bone and all go to their respective corners. I made the mistake of opening the front door. When I returned to the living room, CocoChanel was on the floor, salivating, gasping for air. I put my finger down his throat and he threw up. But whatever was in his throat, was still there. Seconds felt like days and the car ride to the hospital felt like years.
The doctors in the first hospital were able to stabilize him. He had vomited and defecated on the way there. His squeals were heartbreaking. I felt hopeless. The pain of losing my grandma and the thought of losing CocoChanel made me go numb. I don’t know how Diego drove. I don’t know how he made it to the second hospital.
There, the doctors did an X-ray and saw the object stuck in his esophagus. An endoscopy was performed and they were able to remove the piece of bone.
I am so very grateful for another chance with CocoChanel. I am. He spend the night next to me, moaning. CocoChanel.
The bones I’ve been giving him since 2017
The piece of bone that became stuck in his esophagus. A penny next to it to show scale.
On the ride back home.
This morning. A bit lethargic but on window duty, sitting on the dining chairs, next to me.
Needless to say, I will never give him another bone.
I am thankful that Diego was home to help me.
God is Good.
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