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Humph. 2003-01-29 | 10:50 a.m. Dear Darby, I love you. I love the way you lay on my chest and dig your claws in. I love that I can see my own reflection in your eyes. I love the fact that you are so very loyal to me. I'm sorry I have to kill you. I'm sorry that the motherfucking vets couldn't figure out what was wrong with you after three different x rays. I'm sorry that I am incapable of spending any more money on your recovery. I listen to you breath at night and wonder if you'll be around in the morning. I wish I could turn you upside down and shake out everthing that is ruining your lungs, but it wont work. I wish I knew you understood that I'd give my right foot to keep you with me forever. Alas, your time has come and I have to decide when it's bad enough to go back to the asshole vets office and have them take your precious life away from me. I am your murderer. I love you. H
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