MishisM

I wanted to write something grand for my first real entry in this beauty of a new blog.  I wanted to write a long, well-thought essay on a topic of current interest, or an introspective monologue with larger, universal ramifications.  I wanted to write, period.  But the truth is, I’ve got a sick kid, and it’s all I can do to not worry him too much.

I speak of course of one of my furkids, my eldest chinchilla, Baloo.  His eye is irritated and I can tell it’s a discomfort to him.  His fur around it is matted and he constantly squints, often blinks independently of the other.  It could be conjunctivitis, it could be malocclusion, or it could be a scratch on the surface.  He doesn’t care much about what it could be.

He cares that I have to give him eyes drops, twice a day for seven days.  Today was only the second full day, and already he hates me.  I feel manipulative, luring him out of his cage with promises of raisins and time to run, then ambushing him with a wrap-around towel and firm arm.  He struggles, he looks away, but in the end I intrude and let him go.

I’ve administered medicine to animals before.  I’ve worked in a veterinary hospital before.  But I haven’t had to stick around after like I do with Baloo and listen to him cry, an identifiable expression of betrayal on his furry little face.  It truly pulls at the heartstrings, especially when he doesn’t know it’s supposed to be helping.

So I wanted to write.  Something good, something happy, something about anything else.  But the only thing on my mind is my Baloo and his pain, and the hope I hold that he’ll heal.  Soon.

=(