I hoped, for his sake, he'd die quickly, as I rubbed his paralyzed body and listened to the soft cry accompanying each labored, gurgled last breath. His glassy eyes remained open, but saw nothing. He had slept on my pillow every night for the past three weeks, and this would be the final time.
It was rather serendipitous that I came home early on Friday, after all, and feel tempted to believe everything does happen for a reason. Ashcroft had contagious parasites, so mingling with the other cats wasn't an option - he would have spent his last day in the bathroom, alone. Instead, I carried him around as we watched movies and sat outside. He didn't seem hungry, though I offered all his favorite flavors of cat food. Eat, eat!