She rests under the covers on the bed now.
I spend some time stroking and petting her frailness,
Hoping, like with humans, physical touch eases the pain.
I look at her, and I bring her out of hiding,
to the counter where her dishes and water wait.
She takes a sip of water and a nibble of treats.
She sits on the counter, looks around, thinner,
but then jumps down to the floor and trots to the bedroom.
Looking at the bed, I raise the blanket and make a hole for her.
It seems she has no more need of me.
The darkness and warmth of the the hole I’ve made is enough.
I fear I’m losing her