“There’s not much more I can do.” The snap of his latex gloves emphasizes his conclusion.
Her brown eyes, cloudy and sad, tell me it’s okay to let her go.
“We’ve had a good run,” she seems to say, “but I’m tired.” Her tail thumps the stainless steel table counting down the seconds of her life.
How do I say goodbye? How do I let her go? I’m selfish, I know that.
“Come on, girl, let’s go for a walk.”
I help her to the floor. Her toenails click on the linoleum. One last walk to say goodbye.