Life Just Isn't the Same

In the division of labor in our household one of my responsibilities is managing all of the appointments that happen in our lives...oil changes, dentists, doctors, heating system checks, and vet visits. Madison was due for her annual check-up, so I made an appointment with the vet we used when Knox initally got sick, almost exactly a year ago. I knew that making this appointment would stir up some emotions, but I felt ready for it. When I called to make the appointment I was audibly disappointed when I learned that Dr. Dugan had left the area. He was a very, very kind and thorough vet and I hadn't seen him since Knox's diagnosis, so I had been looking forward to this visit for the opportunity to thank and hug him. With Dr. Dugan gone, I made an appointment with Dr. Brown, the owner. Ian and I took Madison to the appointment, which was a bit of a feat since she adhors the car and had me genuinely fearful for my life on the ride over to the office. She was writhing around in her carrier making guttural sounds and pushing her head out of the zipper (we have one of those hip, purse-like carriers because there are so many times when it is important to look really stylish while toting your pet). I had visions of her springing loose from the carrier and landing on my head so I was prepared to ask the vet for a sedative for the ride home (for Madison, not me, though I probably needed one as well).

I pulled into the parking lot and was a bit overcome with emotion. The last time we were in that lot was the end of May when we arrived to bring Knox's life to an end. I managed to get into the office with my yowling cat and then we all quickly settled down. The office is warm, friendly, comfortable, and literally feels like a living room, complete with house cats wandering around, one of whom took an interest in Ian.

The visit with Dr. Brown was entirely uneventful. He knew our history (which is more attention to detail than I get from my pediatrician, whom I've seen, oh 85 million times in the last two years) and we talked about Knox more than Madison, actually. In fact, when I turned to leave I wasn't entirely sure that he had even looked at her, though such a visit did manage to set me back $150.

I left the office in much the same way I arrived, calmly, but with a bit of emotion. I cried on the way home and spent the afternoon thinking about Knox and realizing that life really just isn't the same without him around. I don't think a day has gone by since he died that I haven't thought about him and wished he was here. I still look in the living room window when I come home half-expecting him to be waiting for me and I can't open the door without making sure he doesn't escape before I realize that he's not here. I still think twice about leaving a glass on a counter-top because he would knock them over if they weren't full enough for him to drink from. And, I very much miss him just following me around the house and sitting right next to me when I work on the computer. I feel so very fortunate to have Madison in our lives. She has definitely come out of her shell over the last year and seems to enjoy life as a single kitty. She's a bit more social than she was when Knox was alive; I think she lived behind his vibrant personality and now shines on her own. Sometimes when I look at Madison I think it's Knox. And, so while I am very grateful to have Madison I miss Knox dearly and long for him daily. Life goes on, but it sure isn't the same without him. I miss you buddy.