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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Animal · #1851640
This is a rough free form on my friend, Sir Thomas.
Sir Thomas, The End

Each breath was a struggle.
His eyes pleaded for me to hold him and make the pain go away.
Then suddenly, from just lying there, his body began a motion of intense restlessness.
As quicklly as the seizure started, it stopped. He layed there, exhausted.
I grabbed him up to give him comfort and then gently lay
him in the carrier that would give him his last ride to the hospital.

My precious friend, and cancer fighter, Sir Thomas was almost
at the end of his greatest battle. I was determined that he would
end life on his terms. Still able to hold up his head or put his paw
on my hand to convey his recognition of our bond of love.

We drove into the hospital parking lot and I carried him into
the emergency room. The doctor checked him out and put
him into a box that could give him oxygen. It was not enough.
Nothing would be enough. He could summon all of the strength
and warriorness to show he was well enough to go home, but he
couldn't. I cried. He knew. He could not run away, only purr to
tell me that he still loved me.

I could not watch the end of his last breath. I could only see him, pet him and
say goodbye after the angel of heaven took his spirit out of his painless body and
prepared it for it's trip to animal heaven. The last thing I remember is his beautiful
eyes that as pleaded for help, an hour before, that seemed to say, I tried, and now
I am free from this disease.

I can only say, curse the disease called FIV that he had.
Double curse the cancer that it allowed to silently creep into his
beautiful body. But God bless the peace he had. And double bless
the fact that he will never, ever have pain again. You are free to
run and play. You can sit in flower bed to watch your friends as they
cross the street or roll in the yard that you so lovingly enjoyed sitting in.
I will miss you, but never forget you. Sir Thomas you were always
a great friend to me. Rest in peace, Sir Thomas.


I am sorry but this is all true. I just typed from my heart so I am sure there are many errors. Sir Thomas, a beautiful cat with long orange and white hair, was about 14-15 years old. He was just about the nicest stray that I have had in a long time.
© Copyright 2012 Dorianne (jumacu at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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