But I only have four days to spoil Pan utterly, completely, and like never before. Monday he has to go to the vet for a chest x-ray. His breathing is going weird again.
If he writes a country-western song this weekend, the title will probably be, "The salt in my fur is from my mama's tears".
Either that, or "I used to think mama was crazy (now I know for sure)".
Hugs to you both. Life can be really hard sometimes.
ReplyDeleteLove the living now and do not mourn until they are gone. Be glad of the reminder for many do not get one. Cherish is a word...
ReplyDeleteSoft, silky fur on skin...bliss!