Tonight I had a hard conversation with one of my dearest friends. She has made the difficult decision to put down her dog. He is very ill, and it is for the best, but that doesn't make it any less painful. Her dog, Romeo, is still young, maybe 5 years old. He still has bounce in his step, and a wag in his tail. She is going to take him to the vet on Saturday to end his suffering. Her plan is to take him to the dog park for one last run, then take him to McDonalds for a cheeseburger, his very favorite people food. Just thinking about it turns my eyes to water. I am so sorry for her, and for him. He is a good dog. He has a good parent, who knows that it would be selfish to let him suffer anymore.
I know that my cat, Iggy, will soon be looking to me to be unselfish. Just the thought of it scares me. He is old, and gentle, and loving. He still has a purr in his tummy, and enough energy to jump up on the table, where he doesn't belong. I know that he on the decline though. He eats like a starving maniac. He is bald on top. He doesn't want to go outside and eat grass anymore. He sleeps 23 hours a day. He limps. Okay, he has always had the limp, but it looks pathetic now that he is old.
Iggy is my dream cat. I wished for a cat like him when I was a little girl. He has bright blue eyes, and is pure white. He has good manners. He likes people, dogs, and kids. He even rides well in a car. I can honestly say that he was my idea of the perfect cat. I don't want to say goodbye to him. I will probably never have another cat.
Tonight I will think of Romeo, and his mom, my dear friend. I will put them in my prayers. I pray that his last days on this earth are filled with joy. I pray for my friend, too, who is courageous enough to do right by him.
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