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Yours *TrulyJuly*

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She died.
It’s over now, Kruemmel died.
I’m actually relieved. She was so in pain, I considered euthanising her. I mean, you can’t call it a life if every breath you take means effort, your rips heaving under each heavy gasp, your mouth dropped open to take in as much air as possible.
I think looking after a pet means taking responsibility for her life as well as her death. When the time comes that life becomes unbearable, then a painless death should be granted.
But then, despite her body being like a sheath that was supposed to give her strength and stability, but was now falling apart around her, she had just such a good spirit. With her pretty face, she always looked like smiling. How can you make the decision to put that to an end?
But on the day she died it was different. I cuddled with her in the morning, but she was restless. It was as if she was tired, but didn’t want to fall asleep there in my hands, so every time she would relax, she pulled herself out of it and got up aimlessly.
Finally when I let her go and she went back into the cage, she found her peace…
Strange how animals know when their time is coming. And they seem to prefer to be alone. They always wait until you leave them to it and then walk away from everybody to be all by themselves.
I always picture myself being old and grey in a bed, buried under a thick duvet, having my family around and telling them my last dramatic words. Like in a movie. Well, maybe I don’t have to say anything, but I guess it would be nice to have somebody there. But then, maybe it would be better to be alone, after all it’s a journey that we all have to face entirely by ourselves anyway.
But hey, I didn’t even live half of how long is still to come. Even if I picture I live as long as I have lived so far, it is still not as long as I can live. So much time to live! A lifetime to live.

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