Monday, 20 November 2017

Goodbye Meg

Even though I can see you right now, laying in your basket, I miss you already.  You've been laid there for over a week now, showing no interest in what the dogs (or kids) are up to, which is such a change from your usual getting-in-the-middle-of-everything behaviour.  You won't even get out of that basket for food, and you are usually louder and more persistent than the dogs (or kids!) are when you believe it to be a mealtime.  I miss our chats, where you yowl at me and I answer back, only to be met with some more talking from you demanding answers - but I don't think you've spoken to me since you took to your basket.  We were hoping you were just a bit under the weather, and would perk up once you'd had a few days to rest and some highly prized tinned food.  But you aren't interested in the food.  Even when we bring it to you in your basket, you won't eat.  So earlier today we took you to the vet, who stroked you so gently as she examined you, murmuring to you how beautiful you are, then told us your heart has had enough, and that the kindest thing would be to put you to sleep.  It feels like a betrayal, looking at your sweet face, knowing that in a few hours you'll be gone.  I'm sorry, for every time I grumbled at you desperately crying to go outside, and every time you were outside desperately crying to come back in (usually 90 seconds after I'd let you out).  I'm sorry for every time I pushed you off of the book I was reading when clearly you were being completely reasonable, and just wanted a chin scratch (that is my job after all).  I'm sorry for every time I laughed, watching you and the dogs chasing one another in circles around the house like a cartoon (even though you definitely did your fair share of the chasing).  I'm sorry that I can't make this better, that I can't fix you and make everything okay.  All I can promise is that we won't forget you, and that you won't be alone.  Look at me, and I'll look at you, and tell you how brave you are, and how much we'll miss you.  Look at me, and I'll tell you how much you are loved.

Goodbye Meg


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