Dear Kirby

When we took you to the vet, thinking you might need surgery

I did not cry, or worry, or think of grieving.

Your death was too unexpected to come true.

It didn’t feel like your time.

But when I tried to fall asleep that night,

Instead my wet face whispered the importance of your life into the darkness.

I imagined what I would say in your last moments

And ached at the thought that you might not feel the meaning in my words,

The love in them.

I picked you. You are my baby.

And you will be my baby, too sweet for this world,

Until it really is your time.

Until then, I hope you love being alive,

Despite the lethargy and stiffness of old age.

And I hope the moment your suffering outweighs the gift of life,

you return to where all things come and go, and take with you

Every bit of joy and love you gave and received,

Even if that means a shorter time with me.

Love,