It got worse before it got better.  Squig was listless all day long--unable to find his spunk.  I finally called the vet again and made an appointment for today because he wouldn't eat.  Anything.  Chicken breast--no.  He wouldn't even sniff.  I tried everything on his "approved" list.  He wasn't going to eat anything.  And didn't.  Which finally got me really, really worried.  I couldn't think of anything else.  Thank God for friends that kept calling to check and encourage.

So I cooked some rice.  He had eaten rice in the past.  So......maybe.  And last night before we went to bed, he ate a spoonful or two of rice and drank some water.  Finally.  I was so relieved.

When you are my age, you have lost so many people in your life (and Squig is people) that you know what the "Left Behind" feeling feels like.  I wasn't ready for that.  He is the one constant-every-single-day companion in my life.

They say that when you have a wonderful long life--into your eighties, you are like the last leaf on the tree as far as the people of your past.  You've outlived them all.  Which is good--because you are alive, and in good health.

But the downsize is that there aren't hardly any people who remember what you remember.  I am a child of WWII.  It broke out right after I was born, and wasn't over until I was almost ten.  I was surrounded by the people of the "Greatest Generation."  That was my normal.  Every day was "The War."

Korea and Vietnam and mid-Asia wars haven't touched the way we live here in America for the most part (excluding 9-11)  In WWII there were shortages of the necessities of life every day.  You couldn't buy anything if you didn't have a ration coupon.  Everyone experienced hardship--it was our normal.  I miss those people.  Times were really hard.  But people were good.  I'm here.  I'm tired of losing people.  But I have new people in my life, and I bless God for that.