Out Sick

by Tom Swift

Sometimes you have an idea on how a day or a night is going to go and then life interrupts.

I came home from work Monday excited to see my little buddy, play with him in the basement on a chilly evening, make us some dinner, and maybe get a few tasks done. Nothing too ambitious but just enough activity on the first night back from a break.

Not so much. My little buddy was under the weather. He had gotten sick while I was at work. Initially, it appeared the worst had already passed — he seldom gets sick and when he does whatever bug he catches never stays long — but no. That was a wrong assumption on my part; it was wrong to think play might still go on. There would be no dinner, either. I put some stuff in pots for myself. I cleaned a couple of bowls in the sink and washed his blankets. Otherwise, no tasks were getting done; we needed a different mode. We needed to physically download.

He was sick, so we both went into sick mode. Rest — on the floor, on the couch. Light massage. Breathing. Time to just be.

We slept together that night so I could be right there to take him out if he suddenly needed to go. Also because he is most content when we are touching.

He didn’t have to go out at all in the night. He slept well, better than I did.

I really don’t like it when he suffers. But I am grateful for moments when we are pulled closer. When it’s just my skin, his fur, our breaths, that’s it.