Saffron,

I remember when I met you. I remember when you said goodbye to your brothers and sisters, and came to live with me and my family. I remember that it was the last time you got to see your family.

You were brave, adventurous, tolerable of an annoying teen going through his worst, and always there for company when I wanted it.

I'm sorry I wasn't there for you the last few years. I know that this can't mean much ... and means too little now. But I wish I'd stopped in and said hello a time or two more. Skitty is holding up. He's a fighter, always has been. But he's going to miss you, old buddy. And I will too.

I don't think I'm ever going to forget saying goodbye. I can't imagine what it was like for you -- or it you even understood what was going on. If I'd had the money, I'd have seen to it that you got better. And if you couldn't get better, then I'd have seen that you were at least comfortable until the end. We grew up together, Saffy. I only hoped that you knew it was me saying goodbye in the end. I just hope, somehow, that you weren't scared, and alone.

And if the humane society can save you where I failed, I hope you get a good family, and they treat you well -- as well as you deserve. I'm sorry. I wish I could have done something. I'm so sorry.

May you still find joy, and respite from fear. Be happy, old buddy. And fare well.