The first time I took Toes to have mats trimmed from her fur I went to a groomer. He attempted to put a plastic collar around her neck to keep her from biting and scratching, but she was ultimately deemed too hostile.
The same thing happened when Toes went to the vet for a hair cut and a checkup. They told me the visit would be more pleasant for her if she had a sedative beforehand so we rescheduled for a later date.
The process of giving Toes the sedative was not sedate. I thought I’d be able to administer it easily since I was used to giving her fluids, but she was not having that pill. Her writhing in a towel as I tried to make her swallow is one of my worst memories of my time with her. Right along with that is her appearance after the drug took effect—her back legs immobile. I worried she’d never walk again.
When I gave Toes the sedative before her vet visit, I pictured her enjoying it like a housewife taking a Valium. She’d relax, have her hair done, and emerge glamorous.
I should have known better—most of the change I’ve undertaken in my life hasn’t been pretty. I’ve never movie montaged my way from glasses gal into swan. I’ve either made hard fought slow progress, barely noticeable day to day, or resisted change until I was forced to make it. In the latter cases, I was often heartbroken–picking up shattered pieces of myself that never fit together the same way again.
I’m at the end of a period of change that feels like it’s been a couple years in the making–a mix of heartbreak and slow progress. I’m happy with where I’m at now–excited about new endeavors and making peace with the old.
Change brings beginning and endings, and one of the things I’m ending now is this series. It’s been a joy writing about my life with Toes–remembering the small moments I had with her like when she came home after her fur trim and was so soft to pet.
I loved petting her, I loved being with her, and I’ve loved sharing our story here. Thanks for tuning in to Tuesdays with Toes.