SHORT LIFE
I know you tried your best to nurse me back to health. You brought me to a vet to look at the gash on my back. You gave me a cute shirt to wear so that I wouldn’t scratch my wound.
Best of all, you sang to me every night as I fell asleep on your lap. Right there was the one place where nothing could go wrong. Right there, I knew what heaven felt like as you lulled me to sleep with your songs and stroked my fur with your gentle hands.
I wanted so badly to talk to you that I learned to
meow in a special way. I squeaked like a rusted door hinge – you laughed so hard, remember, Meowmy? I would do that only when you were around.
I always came running whenever you called me, except for that day I felt too ill to go down the stairs. I tried my best, Meowmy. I crawled to the landing where you could see me, but I couldn’t go any further. I could barely breathe. Something was very wrong.
You picked me up in your arms, your voice filled with worry. You had me brought
to the vet once more but they told you it would take time before they could say what was wrong with me.
I appreciate how you watched over me until sunrise, but I felt bad that you cried when I didn’t get any better. I was slipping away, Meowmy. I tried hard to fight it, but I failed.
I’m sorry. I knew you tried to save me.
That fancy place with many other sick animals like me was scary, but I knew you brought me there for a reason. One of my lungs
had collapsed. They made a comfortable bed for me and gave me air to breathe, but it was all too much for me. My body started to convulse and I passed out.
When I came to, I couldn’t move anymore. I saw you come in, Meowmy, and I wanted to tell you that I could see you even when I could no longer squeak and rub against your gentle hands. I couldn’t move my body – I didn’t know what was happening to me – but I wanted you to know that I loved you.