ORCA, my beauty

ORCA, my beauty

Mandy

I saw you being born one day in November 98 among your other 7 brothers & sisters, all black.

With the exception of one little beige hairball who stood aside and appeared to me, I knew at that moment that you were going to spend many long years by our side.

But in those 13 too-short years of love, fidelity and happiness, I never thought for a minute that it could ever end so abruptly.

I thought I was always going to have you, so fearful, by my side.

I was afraid when I thought of the moment when you'd have to leave, I told myself that you'd be afraid, I was in so much pain.

I didn't want you to suffer, to be afraid of being abandoned.

Then on Christmas Day you started to vomit, so we took you to the “Doctor” as I used to say, and the verdict was in: a tumor in your udder, maybe in your bronchi and a lump in your colon.

There was nothing we could do but try to give you a little relief and keep you with us a little longer.

The doctor gave you a corticosteroid injection and the next day you were eating again and walking normally.

This lasted 3 days and after 3 days we took you back to the doctor to give you another miracle injection, but it was too late, your little body was too tired.

He gave us 2 injections anyway and when we got home, you lay down and couldn't get up again.

I lay down beside you, you were breathing fast my baby, then not wanting you to suffer your dad phoned the doctor to give you the fateful injection, and as if you'd heard, you preferred to go before, next to me who was talking to you, who was telling you I love you, you lay on your side, that's when I knew it was over but you couldn't hear me anymore.

And I saw you breathing slower and slower, and all of a sudden after 3 little shouts you went away leaving us devastated!

That January 2, 2012 at 5:45 pm will remain a date I'll never forget.

I love you my love, on Thursday we're going to say goodbye and take you home where you'll rest in our room next to your mom Mandy.