WILKIE

I’m kind of sad but also relieved. Wilkie is dead. He was 16 human
years old.

We’ve known the end was near for a month or so. I was hoping that
it would be clear, when to take him in. And it was. He got real sick,
real fast, a couple of days ago. He stopped eating and then his legs
gave out, couldn’t walk. His dying was nothing but relief.

Now, I’m a photographer so I wondered, as the time drew near, whether
I might take fotos of him after he died. Sounds morbid, I know, but. . .

I told myself that I would just go into the situation with an open mind,
allow myself to feel what I felt, to figure it out as I went along. Just
like usual.

As the drug went in, as Wilkie panted a little (but not too much), I kind
of choked up, cried a bit (but not too much). He died so peacefully.

Cin and I were there, looking and feeling. Then talking. We studied Wilkie,
felt him get cold, saw him dead. We were alright. So was he.

I took some fotos.

Wilkie, December 12, 2011