Last week started out strong. Well okay, I had a few minor hiccups, but related to running, it started off strong.

Originally I planned to go home this past weekend to visit Mom, so I was trying to get all the miles ran during the week. I was still coming off the high of a hilly ten miles in Dublin back on March 4th, and I got my hair done on March 5th. I was a strong blonde bombshell and nothing stood in my way.

Then it was Wednesday. Granted, my story started a little before Wednesday, but that’s when it all came to a head. Marina was dealing with some seeping around her hind area, and a search to Dr. Google gave me a few ideas of what her ailment could be. Admittedly, I didn’t want to take Marina to the vet if she wasn’t in obvious pain since she’s an older kitty and I thought a car ride would be too much on her. Her behavior wasn’t any different, so I figured I’d keep a close eye on her and she’d be fine. Just let whatever it was pass.

I got home later last Wednesday, after a day of work, groceries and the gym. Imagine my surprise when I got home and found a seeping, bloody mess on my floor and all over Marina. Thankfully there’s a 24-hour MedVet close to me and they could get us in, so around 9 p.m. I got out the new cat carrier, put it together (I told you she’s never been in the car) and got us down to the vet. At the vet her anal gland ruptured and well … I’ll spare you all the details, and confirm it was a gruesome mess. Marina was calm through our appointment, she got check out, cleaned up, I charged it and at 11:30 we were finally discharged and heading home.

The past few days have been something else. She slept through most of Thursday thanks to the medicine she was given the night before. Friday was another story. I had to call off work to stay next to her since the medicine and the physical side effects took a lot out of her and she was needing ’round-the-clock care. Friday morning she couldn’t be alone and wanted me right beside her. Friday afternoon she had no strength and collapsed in her litter box. Marina was also wearing a cone and determined to fight it off. I never thought I’d have an argument with a cat, but there we were. Or that she’d eventually use the cone to stab me.

Never underestimate the determination of a cranky cat.

I’m glad to say this past weekend saw vast, quick improvements. I decided to take the cone off today so she could eat and drink more easily, and she’s leaving her scabbed spots alone. Meanwhile, I feel like the mother of a small child.

I know this is a sometimes-controversial take, but I really do believe pets and small children aren’t that different from each other. They only think of themselves and see their parents/caretakers in that context. They need you to feed them, to clean up after them, to provide undivided attention and can’t wait to serenade you with the song of their people. In the past few days I’ve been worried, frustrated, exhausted and wondering aloud if I actually made the right call taking her to the vet. Unfortunately in our family, taking a pet to the vet tends to open Pandora’s box to other, more serious health issues. Marina is doing far better than she was last week, but she is a senior kitty. She’s probably tired of me keeping an eye on her.

But I’m the mama.

That’s what my mom told me on either Thursday or Friday, when Marina was fresh from the vet and frankly not looking so hot. I was worried and feeling overwhelmed, wondering how long she would be lifeless. Mom told me that’s part of being the mama – you worry about them, you take care of them, and you hold to the faith you did/are doing the right thing.

So now it’s tonight. Marina is asleep on one of the dining room chairs while I’m on the couch. This morning I lifted after the first time in a week, so I’ve got sore arms and a sore-ish back. Last night I escaped to the gym for a short run and some glute work, which I’m still feeling. My entire back from the nape of my neck to my mid-thighs are sore. I have tired eyes, and there’s a nice dusting of cat hair all over me and my apartment. And it’s okay. All of that is normalcy, as is the sleeping kitty in the dining room. I’m doing what I need to do.

I am the mama, after all.

I hope you all enjoyed this short(er) read. Soon I’ll be back to running stories. But for now I really want to clean up, close up shop and get to sleep at a decent hour. Sleep is always a good thing.

Yours in running, writing and life,

Allison