LOVE IS LIKE OXYGEN

(LEFT) Cupid "Bones" McPoo relaxes in the new kitty bed. (BELOW) Cupid and Dave "Frijole" Bear discuss the Power of Positive
Thinking.

Every day when I come home from work, every morning when I wake up, I wonder, "Is this the day? Is this the day our Cupid will cross the Bridge?" It feels awful to have that thought hovering in the back of my mind, but I don't deny it's there. He's just hanging on and I also wonder if he is suffering greatly? He doesn't appear to be in any kind of pain. But he is very weak and walking is so difficult now. He's losing interest in his food and I refuse to scruff him and force it down. When he pushes away, I try once or twice more and then we are done.

Even giving him his meds is getting more difficult. He won't open his mouth for me. Sometimes I pray that he will just go to sleep and pass peacefully ~ and put him in a happier place where his little spirit can run and dance again. This is no life for him. And as painful as it is for me to say it, I have to let go of what I want and think of Cupid.

He just looks so sad. And that breaks my heart, too. No one can fix it.

Tonight my husband fashioned a little oxygen tent and pumped some oxygen to Cupid. It was a bittersweet attempt to do something to help him feel better. It amused Cupid for a moment, but didn't do much else. (Of course, Milo thought it was the coolest thing ever!)

As I'm writing this I hear one of the guys (not sure who it is, because they are sleeping under our bed) is crying in his sleep. I got up and reached my hand in and petted whoever is under there and spoke quietly to him...the crying stopped.

Oh, man. As hard and ievitable as this has been, I am not prepared. My own grief, Keith's grief and the grief of Cupid's friends hangs thick.