Goodbye, old friend

You sat on your pink bed and looked around, still curious and sensing much more than I ever could. I had you up off the cold stainless steel, but there was nothing to do about the tang of disinfectant and the echoes of old cries. I pulled the chair over so I could look into your eyes. You looked at me the way a cat does, but longer and with love. I felt your affection. You gave me one of your wet nose kisses, nudging me under my chin and then you slouched a little, your balance and strength giving way. The anesthesia was starting to work through your slowing blood and you were probably feeling sick, so I helped you lay down. I rotated you onto your side and arranged your paws like a sphinx tired sitting up, always watching and waiting. I whispered into the narrow room, into your retreating ears, through my cracking voice, "I'm sorry buddy, it's OK, you can sleep now, it's OK."

Then your pupils dilated as if you were trying to see something in the blackest of nights, as if you were straining to see what couldn't be seen. Your eyes opened to a midnight pond, motionless in the dark with glimmers of starlight marking the surface. The purest of water. Only hydrogen and oxygen. Elements as ancient as the universe. Water that was empty of everything else.

When the doctor came back, I was holding your head in my palm. Your lips hung loosely and your eyes no longer saw me. I kept whispering in case you were still hearing me. The last injection found your dieing kidney and worked it's dark power in the silence. Your last breath was imperceptible. It simply slowed and softened until I could no longer see it under your soft orange coat. A drop of rain into that silent pool. Ripples for a moment catching the starlight, then gone.

--

Fred found me mid-January 16 years ago. I pulled into my parking stall and there he was in the glare of my yellow headlights. Waiting for me. I'm sure it was in the minus 30's that night. Too cold for anyone to be outside, so I took him home. I carted him off to the SPCA the next day in case someone was looking for him, but no one came. A few days later he came home to stay.

Spring was calling the day he passed. It's been poking around for a few weeks now. Newborn eternal sunlight fills the dark corners. It's time to brush out the dust and open some windows. Scruffy brown calves scamper and cavort in the fields. Jackets are undone and hats are left in pockets. I can't help but smile in relief when I walk outside and breath the air of promise.


May you always have a yard to watch over.


And children to keep you on your toes.


Thank you for always having something to purr about.


May you always have joy.


And a chair to watch from.


And a friend when you need one.


May you always have sunlight.


Goodbye, old friend.

-----