Writers logo

Cross That Bridge

Anxiety about the future death of my beloved cat Atlas

By SqueebsPublished 2 months ago Updated 2 months ago 1 min read
1
A sweet bubby-wubby-kins (aka Atlas) asleep on me.

“But what if this shit takes him away from meee?” I sob.

I am absolutely ugly crying on the kitchen floor of my apartment, grieving the loss of my much-alive cat.

I can’t cope with this future turmoil!

How will I live the day to see him go!?

*Atlas casually nestles up against my leg.*

Oh shit.

Why am I worrying about a cat that I can enjoy right now?

He lives on!

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” I mutter.

It comes out as a whisper at first.

I repeat it again and again — Two-three more times until I manage to get it as loudly as I can,

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” I say.

I scoop my lively kitty into my arms and bump foreheads to let him know I care.

The little asshole swats at me instead.

---------

For context, in the first sentence, I say, "what if this shit takes him away from meee."

The "shit" in question was a terrible case of Bartonella. A severe but treatable infection that Bubby was diagnosed with in January 2023 after rounds and rounds of tests from various vet offices.

End result: he was treated, and now Atlas is Bartonella-free! He is still a butt-munch though.

Life
1

About the Creator

Squeebs

Writing is what you make of it.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.