Totally off-thread, but: On October 14, a gloomy, overcast, rainy day here in eastern Arkansas…my 16-year-old calico love of my life, Twinki, died in my arms, as I held her emaciated little body, like a furry baby, to my heaving chest…while I sobbed uncontrollably. She had stopped eating many days previously, but I’d only allowed myself to finally come to terms with the truth just the night before…my baby was dying, and had been for some time. It was at that point of realization that I scooped her limp, already nearly-lifeless body in my arms, held her up to my left shoulder, sat in the rocker, and just rocked her, holding her warm, furry body…sobbing, “Oh, Twinki, What ever am I going to do without you???” throughout the night and into the next day.
As the pink liquid was injected into her small foreleg vein, I kissed her little tennis ball-sized head (it was warm to my trembling lips), and whispered, “Do a happy-tail dance for me, too. Momma loves you; don’t ever forget that.” I looked in her eyes just as her third eyelid slid over half of the surface of her eyes. I sighed, “She’s gone”, and then poured my heart out in a new flood of tears.
I had walked in the building with the love of my life cradled in my arms…and walked out with a shattered, empty heart.
Thank you Cheezpeeps for your “ear” on this, the most heart-wrenching day I can remember.
Van Buren, Arkansas