“In or out?” I asked the cat. He went out. Then in. Then out again. This was his habit. But he always came home for dinner.
“In or out?” I asked the dog. She went halfway out, straddled the threshold, sniffed the air. This was her habit. I waited. She came in when it was time for dinner .
“In or out?” the doctor asked our mother. “You have a decision to make.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want to continue going into the hospital for your heart failure?”
“Or?”
“You could choose to stay out, to stay at home.”
“And die?”
“We can provide comfort care.”
“I’m in the habit of living.”
“No one goes on forever. You’re pretty sick.”
We waited.
“I’m hungry, I want my dinner.”
Image by Harrison Fulop