There's a woman on Ravelry whose wife just finished chemo. They had a bad bout with reactions a few weeks ago, and she was afraid she was about to lose her wife. I posted a few things about dealing with that fear. Today was the last chemo, they're only doing maintenance things now, so essentially treatments are done. And I can't bring myself to write congratulations. I mentioned that my husband went through chemo. I didn't say he didn't survive the rest of it, she didn't need those thoughts during the dark time. I wish I could share her joy at this stage being done, because it was a relief. But I can't.

Fuck this whole "it takes time" and "everyone grieves differently" shit. I hate having to stand still and let it hurt.

Yeah, none of that's on you, Ginger. My Devi was the sweetest looking little thing ever, but she was ninja blender cat with teeth if you tried anything that wasn't her idea. I warned them and warned them, and even with them being careful, it always sounded like WW3 when she had a blood draw and she got every single tech to donate too. And that was under ideal circumstances. Someone would've died in the circs you describe. (And it wouldn't have been her. Hell, she even did her own dying as impossibly on her terms possible. It took a dose suitable for a Great Dane to just knock her out. She was 7 lbs of Will. Vet was in awe "if she wasn't so incurable sick...")

Connie, I'm sorry. It sucks when a source of joy hurts, it's like two slaps in the face.

Connie, I'm sorry. It sucks when a source of joy hurts, it's like two slaps in the face.

I was trying to think of a way to say it, but that's better than anything I could think of. It just sucks.

Ginger, Mr. Peabody ought to nip at a sudden stranger who swoops down and tries to pick him up unexpectedly. That could be anybody! Who knows what they're going to do! And he didn't bite her if he didn't break skin, imho, so she needs to check herself or find another job for which she's better suited, like nothing to do with animals ever. I'm totally on Mr. Peabody's side, here.

I feel like that, frequently, with much less high-stakes provocation, Connie.Sometimes it makes me feel kind of evil. But it does pass, generally. Unless I really don't like the person, or they got something that is my Dream Come True in some way--that's harder to get over.

Fair warning. Anyone swoops down on me unexpected and picks me up, I am with mr. P and will bite you. Further, if you then place me on a scale, there will be hissing and possibly additional attacks.

Connie, I think things are, at best, bittersweet for a while when they are so clearly mappable to your experience. It's, I think, impossible not to identify.

I feel like a terrible pet owner.

Shitty tech did a shitty job.

I office manage a vet and there's one tech there who will never touch my dog again.

I'm effectively the entirety of front desk too so I weigh a lot of dogs. Pets don't understand medicine so you make it as easy as possible for them. Make friends, back off - figure out what the pet needs and adapt.

I'd have snapped too in your situation. Either as you or Mr Peabody. But I'd have bitten harder.

Hope his issue clears right up.

I'm also team If It Doesn't Break The Skin Its Not A Bite, It's A Warning.

Fair warning. Anyone swoops down on me unexpected and picks me up, I am with mr. P and will bite you. Further, if you then place me on a scale, there will be hissing and possibly additional attacks.

I so was looking for the like button.

For real.

Lucy was always good with shots and stuff but my sister took her to a different vet once when I was away and I don't know what happened, but after that she would struggle and fight. It made me feel so awful.