Dear Cookie,

Dear Cookie...

You are now lying at the hospital at Clementi road with a needle in your arm. When I saw you, you looked dishevelled and your fur was wet and clumpy with your drool.. I often complained that you smelt but really, it was all my fault. My fault that your mouth is filled with plague and sores, and that you can't rest easy at night.

We've had a hell of a scare this morning when you just collapsed in my arm and didn't want to move when we took you to the vet. She said your blood test was less than satisfactory - appalling in fact - and that you were in pretty bad shape. I knew too you were in pretty bad shape... but I thought you would be fine again after we admitted you. But that wasn't the case... when I saw you just hours again, your head was low, and you were determined to get out... Not to go home, no. More like, looking for a place to hide, and seem solace so that you could die with your pain alone. And when that did not seem to work, you simply dropped yourself again and decided to ignore our existence. I'm not sure if that was out of anger, frustration, or you did not even know we had gone to visit you. Regardless, it broke my heart. To see you in so much pain, you too seemed to think you were gonna die.

The doctor said you might pass away on your own at night, when no one is looking.. and everyone seems to be pushing me to consider euthanising you. I'm not sure what I should do, Cookie.. I really don't know what to do. Are you ready to go? Do you want to go? Will you send me a sign? I'll consent if it is your will... Otherwise, I really don't think I'm prepared to let you go... I'm scared... I'm scared to face your listless body and not see you wake up again.

Cookie, you've had a really hard life because of me. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I really am sorry. But I feel like all of these is too late now... What will I do when I see you again