Her reports were increasingly grim––not that he wouldn’t recover as right as rain, but rather his return would be delayed by weeks. The surgery went well, and when I spoke with her last weekend, she predicted I could pick him up sometime in early February. While the surgery went very well, she told me, he needed time to get the underlying infection controlled.
That’s why I was so surprised and delighted when she called me on Wednesday and said that Steve was all better. She asked if I could pick him up on Saturday, January 21st. I just about busted out crying.
I can’t imagine a day when I need him more than I do today, and I’m waiting for the cable guy to come fix an ongoing problem before I drive out to the high desert to have my new black-furred friend hop into the back of the Explorer. We’ll drive home, and I imagine he’ll remember me and the house and the warm comfort we shared while curled up on the couch together.
