— But the doctor said it was nerves…
— “Nerves” is a very comfortable diagnosis, — I shrugged my shoulders. — He has high blood pressure, nocturnal episodes and a cat that sounds the alarm at the same time every night. I would start with tests: heart, breathing.
— Blood test?
— Anything, the important thing is to start. And accept that perhaps the problem is not the cat. I can’t treat her: I’m a veterinarian. But I strongly advise you to go back to the doctor and say clearly:
“My cat wakes me up every night, I feel bad, give me tests”.
Carmen remained silent for a long time.
He caressed Marcos mechanically.
— Okay — he said at the end. — I will go.
Three weeks later, Carmen called again…
and what the doctors told him completely changed the story of that cat.
Part 2 …
He left the consultation with Marcos in his arms, not in the carrier. I saw him stretch his neck, look at the hallway, the exit door, and then look at her again, as if checking that everything was still under control. A stubborn little guardian.
Almost three weeks passed. In my work, stories step on each other and, honestly, I had almost forgotten about them. Until one morning the phone rang.
— Peter? I’m Carmen.
His voice was different. Not happy, not euphoric. Alive.
— He went to the doctor — said. It wasn’t a question.
— Yeah. I insisted. I said exactly what you advised me. That I woke up at night, that I felt bad, that the cat practically kicked me out of bed.
He paused.
— I was diagnosed with sleep apnea. Quite serious. And also some cardiac episodes… The doctor was very clear: if I had waited longer, it could have ended very badly.
I closed my eyes for a second.
— Now I have a device, a mask, treatment. The first nights were horrible. Marcos was confused — he looked at me, he looked at the tube, at the noises. But I didn’t wake up. He stayed by my side. I was just watching.
— And now? — I asked for.
She laughed, briefly, relieved.
— Now I sleep. All night. In bed. And do you know what the strangest thing is?
— Tell me.
— Marcos has slept with me again. Not on the pillow. Not at the feet. With my snout close to my face. As before.
He was silent for a moment and added in a lower voice:
— And I no longer feel like he’s kicking me out. It’s like I’ve been waiting for it to be safe.
A week later they returned to the clinic. Officially, for Marcos’ annual review. Unofficially, I think Carmen needed to prove that all of this had been real.
Marcos jumped on the table alone, inspected the room, recognized me and sat down calmly. The same big gray cat, but it gave the impression of being lighter. Or maybe I was the one who looked at it differently.
