I'm so sorry, baby, for
everything that has happened; me and Daddy tried so hard to save you. You
had eye cancer and the cancer just grew until you couldn't see any more.
We bought you paste so your eye could get better and I cleaned your eye out
just like the vet said. But then it didn't work, so we brought you to the
eye doctor in New York. Remember the fresh spring grass, baby? We didn't
have any at home yet because it was so cold, but at the doctors it was green
and you loved it. The eye doctor said that we could freeze the cancer and
she could dig it out, but you had a 20% chance of living through it, so we
skipped the operation. You were put down about seven months later.
I only had you a year, but
you were at my uncle's house before, and before that you were my grandpa's
horse. When you were five, my grandpa bought you from someone in New York
for $100. From there on, you were passed down to us because my uncle didn't
want to keep you anymore.
I was 12 then, when you
died, I was 13. I went to school that day. I was huddled up in a ball at
my desk all day. I kept wondering all day about what time you died. At lunch
I started crying and one of my best friends, Katrina, started hugging me.
On Tuesday, the day after you died, I was walking over to Hillside on Sweetie,
and Mark came over to me and didn't ask why I was crying, but just hugged
me. I was really crushed that day. I had to ask Bucky, the person who saw
you die, about where you died, if I did the right thing to okay you being
I really am sorry, baby,
about all of this; it's my fault you died. You just wouldn't put on any weight,
your eye kept getting worse, and you never wanted to go outside. When I see
you again, then I'll never let you go. I hope that wherever you are, you
never feel pain and you know you were, are, and will be loved forever. I
love you, baby.