But the ending always comes at last
Ending always come too fast..
I hold close the memory of my last days with Dinky. It comforts me that she came to us that last night, out of the closet where she had been secluded most of the day. As bad as she was feeling, she sought out our familiar bed and slept against me all night long.
The end was upon her so fast that I didn't have time to mark many of the "lasts." I can't recall when was the last time she climbed up onto my lap as I sat in the bathroom, nor do I remember which of the fading scratch-marks on my knees came from her claws.
I expected more warning of the approaching end, I guess.
Even when she came home from that last vet visit, I thought there was still time, still weeks ahead of us, time to relish shared moments with her, time to say a proper good-bye. When I printed up the medication schedule, I carried her name out to the middle of January, expecting that our daily sessions with fluids would be continuing into the new year. I had to re-do the schedule after she went, because it hurt too much to see her name there on it and have no more check marks to make.
I fought for you, Dinky--and I bless you that you never seemed to hold it against me. That no matter how much you disliked getting those fluids, you would be back beside me, on my lap or in my arms in a matter of minutes, all forgiven--if not forgotten.
It is your love for me that sustains me now as I mourn in my love for you, little one.
Ending always come too fast..
I hold close the memory of my last days with Dinky. It comforts me that she came to us that last night, out of the closet where she had been secluded most of the day. As bad as she was feeling, she sought out our familiar bed and slept against me all night long.
The end was upon her so fast that I didn't have time to mark many of the "lasts." I can't recall when was the last time she climbed up onto my lap as I sat in the bathroom, nor do I remember which of the fading scratch-marks on my knees came from her claws.
I expected more warning of the approaching end, I guess.
Even when she came home from that last vet visit, I thought there was still time, still weeks ahead of us, time to relish shared moments with her, time to say a proper good-bye. When I printed up the medication schedule, I carried her name out to the middle of January, expecting that our daily sessions with fluids would be continuing into the new year. I had to re-do the schedule after she went, because it hurt too much to see her name there on it and have no more check marks to make.
I fought for you, Dinky--and I bless you that you never seemed to hold it against me. That no matter how much you disliked getting those fluids, you would be back beside me, on my lap or in my arms in a matter of minutes, all forgiven--if not forgotten.
It is your love for me that sustains me now as I mourn in my love for you, little one.
