|Patrick Muldoon the Third*|
He seemed fine that morning.
Then he couldn't stand.
His back legs were paralyzed.
The vet said, "There's nothing we can do."
Everyone looked to me.
How do you make that decision in the span of a few seconds?
Your friend is suffering.
There's nothing to be done.
It's up to you.
You make the call.
You hold him as the vet does that which must be done.
They say it's merciful.
Why does it still hurt so much?
My furry buddy.
I'll see you on the other side...
*For that is what the Nuke liked to call him.
To the Naviguesser he was "Uncle Slinky".
To the WSO he was "Pooh".
A cat with many monikers,