Spike's Bitches 47: Someone Dangerous Could Get In
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
The main tell that I remember was hiding.
I think this will be a big clue for me. Mickey is very social and likes being with me. When he was well, he'd follow me around from room to room. And he knows my habits well enough that he'd beat me to the bathroom in the mornings. He's spending less time with me and more time sleeping, but if I go join him in the bed, he snuggles and purrs.
Seriously, y'all. I can't even begin to tell you how much it means to have you all share your experiences and give me advice on this. It really does give a small measure of comfort in a painful situation. Thank you.
As long as he can and does purr, he may have some time left. I remember a vet - a really good vet - telling us years ago that the time to put a cat to sleep was when it didn't eat or purr.
Chikat, the hiding was key for Perkins. I was beginning to wonder if I had jumped the gun, because the fear of being at the vet perked him up some, but then he refused to sit on my lap and instead went to sit under a chair with his back towards me, which made it the first time in over 15 years he didn't try to climb on me at the vet's. Even before the vet pointed out his third eyelid was showing, I knew it was his time.
I don't feel bitter about Valentine's Day, but I am feeling a bit wistful. I sent StW an email with a link to the xkcd comic and both e-cards. I haven't heard back, don't really expect to... but oh, a big part of me is hoping to. Feh. He has job interviews tomorrow and Thursday, but it'd be nice to have heard, "Hey, too busy this week, I'd like to take you out this weekend." Or even just Happy Valentine's Day. I don't think these kinds of holidays are his thing, but a small verbal acknowledgment of some kind would be nice.
Maria, I'm so sorry. I just heard. Anything you need, just let me know.
I sort of fought with my mother in the morning of the day she died, and while I knew she was ill and terminal, some part of me always believed that I had caused the exact time of death, because of our argument. It's a brain weasel of the worst sort, and completely completely untrue.
The day my father died, he and my mom had a misunderstanding. She was taking the bus home from her job, and he had my sister's older two boys for the afternoon, and they were supposed to meet at a fried chicken place near her usual bus stop. The thing is, there was a KFC on one block and a ... not a Church's but some other chicken chain... place two blocks away. Dad went to KFC. Mom went to the other one. When dad got back, he was so pissed off, and having chest pains, that it was a very good thing I was home so I could look after the boys. He told me to call for an ambulance, gathered up his meds into a bag, told me exactly how many nitro pills he had taken so I could tell the paramedics if he was not conscious when they got there. I wasn't terribly worried yet, the old man had chest pains all the time and spent a few days in the hospital every now and then, no reason to think this would be any different.
About half an hour after they took him to the hospital, my mom walked in the door. She saw the KFC bucket on the table and got so pissed off - she hated KFC, he should know that (I didn't, WTF?). When I told her where he was, she stayed mad until we got the phone call from the doctor. Then she started feeling guilty. It took her months to really make peace with the fact that it was just his time - that it was more likely that if his body were not shutting down, the lines of communication might have been a little clearer.
I don't think these kinds of holidays are his thing, but a small verbal acknowledgment of some kind would be nice.
I wonder if he might avoid communication all together to avoid, I dunno, sending any sort of commitment message? I don't know him very well (and haven't seen him or the both of you together since you got back together) so I could be talking out of my ass, but he seems to be... uh, skittish?
{{{{Maria}}}} not sure what more to add that hasn't already been said. It sounds like you have a world of emotional support here. The advantage of being Borg. We are here for you.
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My Realtor just called. Buffista~ma has worked for step one. My offer is the one being presented to the selling bank for the short sale offer. Now the waiting game begins.
Yeah, I don't know, Nora. If it's just because he doesn't know where he's going to be, fine. If it's because he's not that into me, fine, but tell me. Also, I just realized that I'm probably PMSing, which explains this sudden and violent desire to blast Adele while eating an entire tube of cookie dough.
I don't need to know that he wants to be with me forever, but it'd be nice to know that he wants to be with me now. And I may have to say that to him, and if it scares him off, just as well, I guess. I get tired of treading delicately.
These posts may self destruct, my maudlin is even annoying me.
I wonder the same, Nora. But I am sorry you are feeling frustrated and wanting something from StW that you aren't getting, smonster.
I have affected a Southern accent because we got unexpected (well, I didn't expect it, the meteorologists might have been in the know) hail. So I keeping feeling compelled to say, "oh, haiiiiillllll" and then I feel like a dork.