I Reasonably Suspect That My Cat Is My Ex-Boyfriend

Chapter 9: Evidence nine

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I rushed to the hospital in a hurry, pushed open the door and saw that the veterinarian was nebulizing a scrawny black cat. The cat owner's eyes were swollen, and he was standing beside him without saying a word. Seeing this, I silently closed the door and backed out, sitting in the lobby and petting my cat.

There are many cats outside, many of them are precious breeds, their beautiful fur exudes the smell of RMB, and their barking is soft, which sounds like the pets of wealthy families. But I think my pastoral cow cat is the best looking.

The veterinarian's suggestion was to hang on water for three days, and my cat flinched in my arms as if she understood.

Acupuncture on a cat needs to see a blood vessel, and a nurse takes a razor and clears a patch of skin on the cat's arm.

Um? It turns out that my cat is fat but the hair looks fluffy, and the shaved part looks quite thin. When the doctor put the needle in, I was afraid that the cat would move around, so I got a needle in vain, so I pressed him with the nurse and covered the cat's eyes with one free hand. The veterinarian smiled: "You're more nervous than the cat."

It was true that I was too nervous. My cat didn't respond at all, so I calmly asked the doctor to push the needle in. The cat felt that the whole body was restrained and a little uncomfortable, and shook its ears dissatisfiedly.

"What happened to the black cat just now?" I recalled those red and swollen eyes.

"It's a 9-year-old cat, with severe kidney disease, and pneumonia caused by the nasal branch. The situation is very bad," the doctor said in a calm tone, unable to hear any emotions. "The owner is also mentally prepared."

The doctor put away the equipment, and I pinched the back of my cat's neck. The silly cat was still purring with one arm hanging.

The cat was hospitalized, and I myself have not been hospitalized.

I looked at the cat squatting in the "ward", and my heart was broken.

Then the phone in his pocket rang.

The leader said that he saw me driving in the morning, twisted his foot and stepped on the accelerator, and asked me when the acquisition model of Company Q would be ready.

"My cat is sick. Come to the company in the afternoon."

"I was asking you when the model was up, not how your cat was."

I can go to yours.

I decided not to go to work in the afternoon.

When I arrived, I was impatient, and when I went out, I found that my already domineering off-road vehicle was even more domineering and took up two parking spaces. I got in the car, stepped on the gas, and sped toward the nearest shore.

Four hours later, I was walking aimlessly along the coastline against the cold wind.

Sand got into the shoes, so I took it off and stepped on the slightly rough sand surface. In winter, the sea was misty and gloomy, the same color as the sky, and the waves rolled over my ankles, freezing to the bone.

It was early summer when I came with my ex-boyfriend that year, and we seemed to be sitting on that rock. I watched the sea with him for hours, and the wind made my cheeks hurt. I asked my ex-boyfriend if he was back, he shook his head, and we sat for hours with the sea breeze.

The day after I found out my ex-boyfriend had blood in his mouth, I took him to hang up the number of an internal medicine specialist in the city's largest hospital. The expert is an old doctor in his 60s, so let's go downstairs to film first.

I don't know why, but the old doctor always felt familiar to me, as if he had seen him somewhere.

The old doctor got the CT, tapped the pen, pushed the glasses, diagnosed it as an infectious lung disease, prescribed some medicine, and told the home to be more ventilated and to breathe more fresh air. The old doctor's tone was light, and his expression was indefinitely hidden behind the thick lenses.

The big stone in my heart fell, and I drove to the beach with my ex-boyfriend. He put his head on my shoulder and stared motionlessly at the sea-sky line. In the evening, I couldn't hold it any longer and told my ex-boyfriend let's go.

I say come again next time.

He said yes.

A few days later, my ex-boyfriend coughed less, but the dark circles under his eyes were getting deeper and deeper. He said it was because he didn't sleep well at night. Only later did I realize that I didn't sleep well, that I couldn't sleep well all night.

On the weekend, I made a table of dishes on a whim, but my ex-boyfriend put down his chopsticks after only two bites.

"...Is it that bad?"

"It's delicious, but I have no appetite recently."

I, too, lost my appetite, stood up in disappointment, wrapped the meal in plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator. My ex-boyfriend came over and pulled my hand, giving me an apologetic kiss.

I don't know what my ex was thinking or why he suddenly disappeared the next morning.

I thought he was out, as usual, and would be back in a while.

In the end, when I tried to call him at night, the mechanical female voice told me over and over again that the user you dialed was turned off, please try again later.

I rushed to my ex-boyfriend's company, and his colleagues said he had quit for a long time, and they couldn't get in touch with him. Countless possibilities flooded my mind like migrating birds. I'd rather he leave because my food is too bad, I sleep too badly at night, I'm so irrational sometimes, or because our relationship has faded over the years and he doesn't want to continue, or because he likes it Others... I can accept all of these, but I have always resisted, unwilling to accept the biggest and brightest one whistling over all possibilities.

But I had to pay attention to it.

My ex-boyfriend has been sick for a long time.

And I was slow to wake up until now.

My heart was beating so fast, and there was a throbbing pain in my chest. I walked around the corner and knelt on the ground slowly and slowly, trying in vain to relieve the pain that was piercing my bones. I think my ex-boyfriend must be in more pain than me now.

Half a month later, I found him in the small city we first met.

The smell of hospital disinfectant makes me sick, and I've never hated white things so much.

My ex-boyfriend's ward is at the end of the corridor. The grille light above is constantly vibrating. There are elderly people listening to the opera in the ward. , "Shaohua is good...Baiyun...I don't envy Xianxiang..."

My ex-boyfriend's mother had gray hair and was sitting in front of the hospital bed knitting a scarf. I looked past her and saw a pale, thin face. My ex-boyfriend who ran away from home was shocked and tried to look at me with wide eyes: "How did you find it?"

His voice was muffled through the ventilator.

I looked up, and several infusion bottles with dense labels were dripping with clear liquid medicine. I followed the interlaced thin tubes and looked back at him. The pipe burrowed under the quilt like a snake, and I could imagine what it was like inside without opening it.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"It doesn't hurt," my ex-boyfriend squeezed out these two words in silence for a long time, "why are you here?"

"Physician, he was the father of the girl at the front desk when we were in school. I remembered later that I met him during the parent-teacher conference."

"Oh." The ex-boyfriend closed his eyes in frustration.

I really think my ex-boyfriend is very scheming.

His mother was in a trance, pulled me to sit down, and told me that her son had heart failure, a family disease, and that the doctor diagnosed him as a child with a very small chance of getting sick, but I didn't expect that such a small chance would still let him hit him. …

She also wanted to continue saying that her ex-boyfriend took the old man's hand and said he wanted to drink some hot water. His mother leaned over to pick up the kettle and staggered out to get the hot water.

Heart failure

My ex-boyfriend's heart is the one I heard when I mischievously approached him in school; it was the heart that jumped furiously when he grabbed me outside the Internet cafe; it was the heart I was under him after his long run The heart I heard; the heart I heard when I was kissing him in the corner; the heart I heard after the night with him after the storm; the heart I heard every night when I lay on his chest That heart, such a good heart, how could it be...

After the play on the opposite bed has been sung a few times: "I only wish to take...beauty...and last forever..."

I couldn't hear this, so I hunched over the bed rail and cried.

"I'm sorry," my ex-boyfriend's voice was barely audible, "I'm in doom after all."

The sea breeze blew, with a salty and moist smell, irritating my nostrils.

I crouched down, drew a heart on the sand, and watched as the waves swooped in and swept it away. I reached out and drew another one.

I now reasonably suspect that my cat is my ex-boyfriend.

Evidence nine:

My cat is also sick.