The Shot

The Shot
__________

The day came,
I put you in the carrier,
you didn't even
scratch or fight.

My movements forced,
automatic;
I could not believe ,
what i was doing,

or even thought
that I was there.
But for searing mental screams,
a numb, leaden
heavy heart.

They had found a
lump in your stomach, and
you had ceased,
eating and drinking,
much;

Lost some weight,
and I could see,
your hip bones, hollow cheeks,
and
sunken, glazed,
dimming eyes.

Sad and sick,
you no longer purred,
and could not
jump onto the bed;
I had to help:

limp, feather-light
fading, fading,
a bare wisp.

II
__

I broke up,
and you looked up
from  the carrier,
on my lap.

Noble, regal,
sort of 'knowing',
Your gaaaaaaze
seemed to say......:

"Hey, it's time to let me go,
I'm hurting, I'm tired, and scared.
I will miss you."

On the cold,
hard table
the shot went in.

And,

as weak as you were,
you gave a last,
'Fighting' hiss;
a cat's true
heart and spirit,
until the very end.