It rained in the desert the day I took Isis to her doctor. She wasn’t interested in eating or drinking. She did perform her daily ritual of snuggling her body next to mine when I sat or reclined. She continued to offer her furry head to my fingers for scratching. She didn’t complain or demand attention. She was happy to just be with me.
Her doctor examined her blood and diagnosed terminal kidney failure. There was not any procedure or medication to stop the process. She was dying. He suggested we easy her transition. Her eyes told me she was in agreement.
I stroke her soft body. Her breath exhales in a soft growl. She lowers her head onto her paws gazing at me with unconditional love.