I must confess that my morning visit with Angeline left me feeling less than ecstatic. She came to the front of the cage to see me but stood there looking wide eyed and a little glum. She let me put a blanket over her shoulders and lift her into my arms. I held her while she slept. A far cry from yesterday morning’s little energetic monkey butt. But her breath came deep and regular and I thought back to the first visit I had with her in the ICU when her breaths were just wisps against my arm and I thought about how grateful I was for them, then and now. When I left she was looking equally glum at being put back in her cage. My feelings mirrored the look on her face.

Angeline breaks my heart. She has gained over 1/2 pound since she arrived in the ICU but I don’t know where she put it because to look at her one still has to marvel that she is alive and walking around. She clearly wants to be held and snuggled, she knows what that is, she knows that it is good and that she likes it. But she has also clearly learned not to trust in the goodness. Someone has done things to her, bad things. The conflict on her face and in her body is obvious and, well, heartbreaking. Wanting so much to feel safe and comforted in someone’s arms but being so afraid to believe in that goodness. She is always waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop, she startles easily, I have to move my hands slowly when I am holding her and even then her eyes get big and she watches me closely.

She is one scrappy, sassy, spunky girl, she’s had to be to survive.

I also want to say that you did it, the prayers, voodoo magic, energy waves, healing energy, whatever it is, you did it. Angeline’s fever is dropping and I’ll be picking her up in an hour to come Home.

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