If It Should Be…

The veterinarian was kind enough to give me this poem, along with a tuft of my fur-baby’s fur.

 If it should be that I grow frail and weak
and pain prevents my peaceful sleep,
then you must do what must be done
when this last battle can’t be won.

You will be sad.  I understand.
Selfishness might stay your hand.
But on this day, more than the rest,
your love and friendship take the test.

We’ve had so many happy years
that what’s to come can hold no fears.
You’d not want me to suffer.
So when the time comes, please let me go.

Take me where my needs they’ll tend.
Only – stay with me until the end.
Hold me firm and speak to me
until my eyes can no longer see.

I know, in time, you, too, will see
it is a kindness that you do for me,
although my tail its last has waved,
from pain and suffering I’ve been saved.

Do not grieve it should be you
who must decide this thing to do.
We’ve been so close, we two, these years…
don’t let your heart hold any tears.

~Anonymous~

♥ R.I.P Ricki ♥
July 1, 1994 – January 23, 2013