My mom always kissed my hurts and made them go away. But when Nala stopped eating and could barely move, I crossed my heart and wondered if Mom could do that for Nala.
At the animal hospital, Dr. Nash rubbed her long fur. “I’m sorry, Brookie. Nala has lived a long cat-life. Her bones hurt, and she’s tired. You and your mom need to talk about her sickness.”
Nala stayed with Dr. Nash while Mom and I went outside and sat on the grass. I just wanted to flick my shoestring, but Mom asked me to look at her. “I can’t kiss Nala’s hurts and make them go away, Brookie. Dr. Nash can’t fix her, either. Medicine can’t even fix Nala. But it can stop her pain until she stops breathing. We’ve talked about this before. Do you understand? Do you want to ask me any questions?”
All my tears fell on Mom’s arm and spattered on my legs. I couldn’t make Nala well, but I could stop the hurt. So I flipped away my tears and stuck out my chin. I wanted to be brave, but my chin refused to stop quivering. “I understand. We have to tell Dr. Nash to give Nala the medicine. I want her pain go away.”
Back in the doctor’s office, Mom held Nala in her lap. I rubbed her paw down my cheek the way she used to do before she got too sick. I crossed my heart and whispered, “My kiss and the medicine will make your hurt go away.” I gave her a kiss and ran into the hall where I’d told Mom I wanted to wait.
Soon Mom came out and slipped down beside me. She rocked me while I cried big tears. But they were happy ones. Nala wasn’t hurting anymore.
As soon as I got home, I grabbed our pictures. Nala as a kitty.Nala at my birthday party. Nala chasing a butterfly. I looked at every picture.
“By the time I finish your kitty picture book, I bet Mom will agree that you would like us to have a kitten. I’ll name her Lala – to rhyme with Nala.”