Saying goodbye is always hard

For about 5 years ago, on my way home a late Friday evening, I saw a young opossum in the middle of the road. I stopped to move it over to the side of the road, when I notice it was still alive.

When I walked over to her, She show her teeth, I could see she was in pain, so I send a picture, I wanted to pick her up and hold her.

She relaxed and let me pick her up. I carried her to the car, where I put her on a towel I had in the car. Yup I drive around with a towel in my car, just in case.

When we got home, she was more relaxed, I could see she was badly hurt, and I knew she was not going to survive. Her head was bleeding and her pelvic was dislocate, her tiny baby was dead.

I tucked her in my arms, where we sat for the next 2 hours, just talking about where she was going and how many wonderful things she was going to see.

She closed her eyes and didn’t fuzz when I held her or caress her, she looks as if she enjoyed it.

After two hours I cover the bottom of a box so she could lie soft. I put her in the box and said good night to her, told her I hope she was still her when I woke up, but I understood if she was not.

I went to bed.

In the morning when I woke up and looked down at her, she was gone. I am glad she didn’t have to die alone and I was able to share the last hour with her before she died.