When I received tiny Magic for fostering five days ago he was nothing more than a skeleton with fur, but his eyes shone with love. For five days I fed him, I cleaned him, I cuddled him and I loved him..........but I got him too late. He was too weak to flourish.
I found him this morning with the look of death on his face and I held him long and close. I told him that he was my little baby and that he has been loved. I told him that it was OK for him to leave, because I knew he could then be restored to a health he never knew in this life. I waited until he was gone to cry so he would never have to see sadness. He was barely 8 weeks old.
RIP tiny waif. We will meet again some day.