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Skeeter.
April 15, 1999-September 6, 2016
Yes.
He really existed.
He's gone now. For a number of reasons, I won't have another cat, but I'll always remember him.
When you leaped into my arms, we had seventeen years to go. Mostly good…your funny personality, your warm fur, your goofy antics.
Being responsible, taking care of you.
It flowed on for us, the river of our life together, and I never thought about an end.
And now, we have only a few minutes more.
I’m in the back seat of the car, holding you on our way to the vet.
I saved you once a year ago, but there’s nothing left now but a long horrible death for you unless I go through with this.
I hold you against my soft sweater, your mother’s fur.
You nuzzle into the crook of my elbow. Do you know?
Only a few minutes more.
I always wondered what you could say if you could talk, but now there’s not much more we could say.
Only a few minutes more.
I love you…I love you
Goodbye…Goodbye