From My Everyday Life

By WK

Beyond Tired

A few days later, on Easter Monday, at 12.5 years old, with a football sized tumor in his belly, he passed away.

In the last few days, he didn't do much more than sleep. He struggled to stand, and I had to carry him outside and back in to do his business. But he wanted to be beside me as much as he could, and he still enjoyed being petted and scratched. My little man.

RIP, Jonah.

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