The Plague and The Introvert

“Oh good–it’s turned into Ebola.” Rich finished blowing his nose and gazed suspiciously into the tissue.

Hunched over under layers of blankets to ward off the chills, I gave him the stink-eye. “J’accuse!” I raised a damning finger at him. (I think you can guess which one.) “You made me sick.”

We are living in a plague house.

Whatever we have, it started at a search where Rich encountered another searcher, our Patient 0. I was late to the search because K9 Zackie-O had a flare up of her auto-immune disease and I had to take her to the emergency vet. By the time I arrived at the search, the subject had been located and things were shutting down.

I suppose that minimized my exposure to Patient 0. Rich succumbed two days later. I remained healthy through Christmas and then went into a death spiral two days later. My natural introvert immunity, keeping myself to myself, couldn’t help me against being in close quarters with my diseased spouse.

We also have George the Cocker Spaniel in hospice care here. He has a tumor in his jaw that has distorted his sweet little face. There is frequent bloody discharge, but this seems to bother us more than him. The house looks like a crime scene on most days, and I’ve largely given up on the carpets. To George’s credit, he’s hanging in there and still enjoys eating and walks on nice days. As long as his tail keeps wagging, we’ll keep going.

In addition to us possibly having Ebola, Zackie’s flare up and George’s condition, the icing on the cake is Dewey, one of the three black cats in residence. Dewey is sneezing and one eye is dripping. If this were another cat, I might be alarmed, but Dewey probably has allergies. Sneezing is normal for him. The dripping eye, however… I keep my eye on Butters and Mojo. Both of these cats remain healthy, so it’s not contagious. I should mention that Butters has flipped his bed upside down and has started sleeping in it like a meatloaf. I don’t know if that’s a sign of anything.

If you don’t see any further postings on this blog, we have all succumbed to our various illnesses. I have only just moved past the aches and chills, but I’m still not feeling optimistic. Mojo and Butters may be the sole survivors, so check for them before painting a black cross on our door to mark us as a plague house.

UPDATE: Dewey’s eye was dripping because Mojo swatted him. Mojo can be a jerk.

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Image by Peggy und Marco Lachmann-Anke from Pixabay

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