Animal Scene - - FUR THE WIN -

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.

It’s not how long we live on earth that mat­ters, but how many lives we’ve touched. Me­owmy told me that hun­dreds of peo­ple were sad for me when my soul left my body. I guess I mat­tered, huh?

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