Lux’s room was ready and we said our farewells. No more visits at the boarding facility, those sweet sad moments together where, cat-like, he mostly ignored me, preferring to sniff corners, jump on chairs, and try to chew the plastic waste basket bag. (Which I didn’t allow)
In a way, it was a relief. Something positive was being done. We held high hopes that by stabilizing his meds and giving constant positive reinforcement, time would do its magic and he would morph into the happy cat we so wanted him to be.
Lux left Portland and I went home to my cats, a little smaller for the loss. But I knew that having Lux living with us as he was, unhappy and combative, was out of the question. Think of it as another adventure.
I was safe; Lux was safe. So why did I feel so tenuous?