she was only 9. She had cancer. I don't know how long she was masking the pain of it, but when we realised the vet said no hope, do it very soon. So that happened, 36 hours later, here in our living room. She knew she was dying. She kissed us both goodbye, and then lay down where she used to lie, by my feet, and let it happen.
I have never felt such grief. Not with parents, friends, other pets. Not when I lost a baby early. (This is why I changed my name.) I don't know what to do with it all. She was the thing I loved most in the world and in the end, I couldn't help her.
There's no one in the real world I can tell about this last month. So I'm writing it here.