This and That--Including Knitting

Well, it's over. Tommy crossed the Rainbow Bridge early Saturday afternoon. For several days, I had gone to bed thinking that I should make that call to the vet. But, the next morning, he'd seem to be doing better, so I'd decide to put it off. Of course by nighttime, we'd be going through the same cycle. That's what happened Friday. Tommy had a brief rally earlier in the week, when he started the steroid treatments for his cancer, but it quickly ended. Friday night I went to bed thinking it was time to let him go. In the back of my mind, I'm sure I thought he'd be acting more normal by morning. After all, that's what had happened before.

This time, it was not to be. When we got up Saturday morning, it was obvious to me that Tommy was telling me he wanted to go. And I had to respect his wishes. So, I made that call to the vet.

Let me say something about my vet and his staff. The past few weeks have been very emotional, and they stood with me all the way. They've been caring, considerate, and most of all, kind. When the vet came into the exam room, there was no rushing. We talked about the situation, and he agreed that it was probably time. He explained what would happen. He gave Tom a tranquilizer and then took him to a room in the back, where he shaved a small spot on Tom's arm and inserted an IV. He gently carried Tommy back into the room, wrapped in a big fluffy towel. As he injected the final drug, I talked to Tommy and petted him. In seconds, Tommy was back with his mom and dad, across the Rainbow Bridge.

After Tommy had passed, the vet reassured me that there was no way I could have known how sick Tommy had been. He reminded me that I had given Tommy a good extra year and had done a great job treating his diabetes. I did feel good about that. After all, his family wanted to euthanize him in November 2007. Plus, I truly believe that Tommy went to join his mom and dad. I also learned alot during the time Tommy lived with me.

I've had pets euthanized before, but they'd all been due to emergencies. For example, Lily had thrown a clot. There was really no time to adapt to the idea that it was something that had to be done. This time was different. Tommy was 16 and had diabetes, so it was always in the mind that his time with me was probably short. I will always be grateful that I was able to be with Tommy when he passed. After all, before he came to live with me, he had spent most of the previous year alone. He knew I loved him. And thanks to the vet and his staff, Tommy's passing was gentle. We should all be so lucky.

Knitting Content
For as long as I can remember, I've loved lighthouses. I'd like to live in a lighthouse, preferably on my own island. OK, so what does this have to do with knitting? Well, Miss Violet (of Lime & Violet fame) posted the following Isak Dinesen quote on her blog recently: "The cure for anything is saltwater--sweat, tears, or the sea." I love the sea. One of the highlights of my life has been sticking my feet in the Pacific Ocean. Strange as it may seem, as much as I love water, I can't really claim to be able to swim.

OK, you still want to know what this has to do with knitting. I would like to knit only things relating to water, the sea. I'm not sure how I'm going to do this. I'm thinking something Aran, perhaps a lace scarf with a water-related pattern. It'll evolve.