And in the end, it wasn't enough

I just took this picture. It's about an hour before we have to leave for the clinic to put you to sleep. You have no idea.

I remember the day we found you at the shelter. It was August first, and I was set on getting a kitty before school started. And there you were, so tiny and adorable and weak, but we were going to make you better because we would take care of you and give you the best life for a long time. It turns out we only got six months because you have something we couldn't fix, and I wish I would have made sure to make the most of the time we had.

I'm sorry for all those times I irritably pushed you off of my lap or shoulder because I was trying to study and you were in the way. I would have held you more than you wanted had I known.

I'm sorry I'm too much of a coward to take your temperature one last time because if it was one of the times of day where it was close to normal it would be so much harder for me to take you in and let you go.

I'm sorry that this afternoon doesn't happen to be one of the bad ones where you obviously feel terrible. And I'm sorry I wish it was so it would be easier for me.

I'm sorry when we got Moggie we didn't give you as much attention because we had a new baby to play with.

I'm sorry you have to die this way, because for whatever reason there's still no way to cure this disease.

You are the sweetest, most gentle kitty I will probably ever get the chance to meet. This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, topping the list over something I thought was untoppable. You took a piece of my heart the day we found you and you have it still. I hope that someday in the future I will find a kitty that has your same gentle spirit, and maybe I will get that piece back. I love you.
















Mood: broken