Is has become was: Samantha
My lap is empty, my heart is broken. I keep looking at the bed in the guestroom for a furry back, curled up in sleep. In the kitchen is an empty food dish, and the bag of favorite kibble.
The dish has remained empty since Monday afternoon, when I came home, and was greeted by a cheerful Sammy , with her tail held high, chirping at me, as cats do when they are happy to see you. I hate myself for having abused the situation, her trust and her sweet nature at that moment, because I scooped her up and started to shove her into the cat carrier.
She hates the cat carrier, never likes what it means, and I felt horrible because I knew why I was doing that. I actually wailed out loud. My own resolve nevertheless surprised me and I got the cat into the carrier. Then I wandered around aimlessly crying and bawling out loud. Then I called a cab and took Sammy to the veterinarian.
I didn't have the courage to stay with her for her last moments here on Earth. I wimped out, more focuse