There was so much left to save, but with limited resources his heart just didn't have the strength.
He left with his tail tucked deeply between his legs.
And what he left behind was a prayer that from this we would all grow.
Staring out onto the street, curled up with his legs under. This furry friend we've all made. I imagine he is waiting, looking, and wondering why his best friend, his savior, his hero, rarely comes home anymore. And for him my soul bleeds.
When you take a wounded soul under your wings, for the betterment of man, of our world, at what point is it okay to say no, no more, it's time to let go.
It's one thing to shelter a child from a storm, a whole other to shelter a grown man
from the path, his road. And to bring in this furry creature into our home, who would one day become this pillar of sadness for me, well that was something we could never have known.
For this, my little four-footed whiskered critter, is where my heart suffers most.
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