Shariyat is dying slowly.
Each day she gets weaker and shrinks into herself. Last night she wanted to be in my room but she got confused and staggered in circles until I carried her across the hall to the little nest we made for her, close to the floor register. She can’t weigh more than a pound now, from her original four pounds.
I keep reliving Hal’s last days and the pain of loss is the same.
The fur ball and I have been together a long time, almost sixteen years.
I hope that she will meet up with her mom and with Hal. They’d all like one another and they can show her how things are done.
There are moments when I want this to end and then I flip-flop and value every extra moment as a gift.
I started off to the track early this morning and then turned around and returned home. I need to be here.
She is past caring who is with her as long as she is warm. I’ll stay close by anyway.
It’s your party, dear girl, and your rules.
May the blessing be.
No comments:
Post a Comment