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Yes, we all know we should avoid stereotyping. Stereotyping is when you assume people are a certain way because they belong to a particular group. What I'm saying is that often, within groups, you do notice a subset that shares characteristics. The latest vet in the series, for instance, the one at the fancy veterinary specialist center I was at last night. Young, sensible ponytail, regular features, no makeup, hardly any jewelry, a straightforward, farm-girl manner, brisk and efficient. And occasionally, when she focused inwardly on one of the intriguing aspects of my cat's condition, her eyes would sparkle, and you could see the wheels inside whirring and clicking: a keen mind, working on solutions with an avid, eager fascination, the way hunting dogs react to a bird in the underbrush. I've seen the type before among the broad set of people who excel in technical fields. I've seen as in direct, empirical observation, which is a kind of antibiotic against stereotypes.

As she ran down the complexities of the case, she mentioned that it's very unusual for this problem to suddenly appear in a 13-year-old cat. They wanted to do an ultrasound to check for tumors "before you invest" in the relatively expensive operation that corrects the condition he came in for, she said. Then she ticked off what everything would cost, and again I had the experience of being asked—this time wordlessly—if I was going to ante up. She leaned forward a few degrees, not really perceptibly, and her eyebrows went up a sixteenth of an inch, and again, you couldn't really see it but you knew it was your turn to give your assent.

I was still thinking about tumors. I'm not ready for this, I told myself, but I may have to get ready. At the moment, I wasn't sure what "ready" meant. Now I know that the only thing it can mean is that you react to bad news with self-mastery, with dignity and a rational sense of what needs to be done. Lots of us consider ourselves realistic, serious-minded people. We know we can't ask for miracles. We know that the people and animals we love will have to die some time. All we ask is that the time not be now.

I indicated that they should go ahead and do everything they can do. I wanted this stranger to understand, but it wasn't a place for speeches or emoting, so I just said, "He's my buddy." She was a vet and a smart person—if that didn't make it clear, I'm not sure what else would have.

"He's got a long road ahead of him, and this is where it starts," she said, as I got up. She meant with diagnosis and therapy, but I was still thinking about tumors and investments and throwing good money after bad and how I may have to be ready for something I'm not ready for. I hope he does have a long road ahead of him, and I hope it leads home. Not Home, people, not the home we're all supposedly headed for. I mean home, in my house, with me, where he belongs.

And that's what's going on with me today.