Hazel, you were the youngest of three, you weren’t deeply connected with the other two because you came a little late and from a different place, my family members couldn’t really connect to you because you had a clear and strong personality. For all that I took extra time to show you I cared and to show you love on behalf of everyone else. I learned to be patient so you could learn to trust.

You were a true survivor, tough and resilient to your last breath. I know I did the best I could but I wish I could’ve done more. Please forgive me if I didn’t do you right at any point, please forgive the shortcomings of where we live, please forgive that my best wasn’t enough. I’m very, deeply and agonizingly sorry to see you go, and I miss you terribly already.

You were such a warm presence in my life, I love how you used to ignore me but come to me when you felt like it, I love how smart you were, I love how you liked me petting you and fluffing you up. I love your chocolate eyes and roasted-marshmallow-like color. I love everything about you and I won’t stop.

You’ve done your best for the past two months, I hated that you sniffed hay so eagerly but couldn’t eat, I hated watching you run to the veggies, pick them up and drop them. I hated when you struggled through the stress of vet trips to no avail. The pills, injections and the last two nights where you felt so much pain you couldn’t sleep. For that I know you’re in a better place, where you don’t have to suffer without any proper treatment. I know you’re in a better place, but the emptiness you left behind is torn wide open, and it hurts so bad I can’t sleep..

I love you Hazel to the moon and back, I would’ve given you my life if I could just to treat you. I will meet you again some day.