My Sweet Little Peanut,
I lost you my little one on Christmas Eve. A day that should have been full of celebration.
You are never forgotten. The reality of you not being here has been the hardest for me to deal with. I cherish every moment with your brothers. Life is so short.
I want you to know that I gave you a voice. It was time for you to be heard. Your message was strong and straightforward. The letter was brought to that vet's office by me, in person. I remember him telling me, "It happens" when he called that horrible day. He didn't have the decency to call me when trouble arose. He waited until you were already gone. He had nothing else to say. He knew he was wrong and later I found out he was full of lies. That's okay, because karma is a powerful thing.
I wish you were here instead. It's difficult to look at your picture. I LOVE YOU. You will have a voice again on your birthday.
Remember me? You should.
I was in your care, but not for long before you went home, feasted, and celebrated Christmas Eve, Christmas, and then the New Year. I’ll bet you celebrated as if everything was copacetic while I laid in your morgue in a plastic bag.
I had two brief visits there and on the third, you managed to silence me forever. The total of the three visits was only a few hours. I was the sunshine with infinite energy in my home, and I was so young. My brothers lost their best friend. My Mom blamed herself for bringing me there. It’s not her fault. It was you or your tech to last see me alive and did not save me, you know, allowed me to die.
My family’s holidays were destroyed. I’m sure you know why. You can’t forget so easily. Their holidays are ruined this year, too, for the same reason. My parents still grieve. So do my brothers. I’ll bet you’ll be celebrating your holidays this year, just like last, like nothing happened. Enjoy yourself just as you did last year.
I won’t see you up here where I am. Most make it up here, but some wind up somewhere else, you know, "It happens."
Remember me. I may visit you in your dreams.