She was down for the count Saturday, Sunday and Monday. By the end of Monday, though, she was able to get up and go out to pee on her own. Tuesday she moved slowly. Today she felt good enough to be her doofy self in the morning, playbowing and scrunching up my comforter with her joy.
I have to admit - Mina would have handled being unable to walk poorly. She would have fought tooth and nail (by "fight", I mean she would have flailed wildly) if I had to pick her up to go outside and pee or get off the bed or get to work. But Celeste? Despite the great amount of pain she was in, despite having to literally be carried and supported to pee, despite having me handle her feet every five seconds to make sure they were still there...she handled it all with a calm and gentle energy. When I had to pick her up, she would meld into my body (which she does not generally do when she is healthy). When I had to carry into the office, even with Wendal trying to sniff her butt, she let go of her tension and relaxed.
My heart grew bigger for Celeste. While Mina has created this raw, gaping wound in my heart that will take forever and a day to heal when she dies, Celeste has circled three times and curled up for a nap. The kind of love I feel for Mina is deep and profound, but it is also deeply and profoundly painful. And now, after being a caregiver for the gangly Celeste, the love I felt for her has been transformed into something really quite lovely and light and warm. She trusted me so implicitly, so without hesitation and I was honored. After four years, victory is hers!