By the way, the old one, the one you dropped off, the one you were sure was peeing around the house just to spite you... he was probably diabetic, and it was his only way to tell you he was sick.

And your dog.. the one you bought as a cute little puppy 13 years ago... why didn't you think of her *before* you decided to have children? What miracle is it that you think we can save her?

Oh.. and you there. You're moving, aren't you? Do you *really* believe in your excuse? Do you really think moving into a metal cage without you is LESS traumatic than moving into a new place where at least she can be with you? Don't you understand she wants nothing more than to be with you always? Why can't you see that?

But you see.. I took care of that problem for you. Yet I hear you talk about us like we don't care; hear you ask why I urge you not to do it. "*MY* cat is too pretty to die here, she'll be adopted." Heh. You keep believing that.

Do you know I don't even ask anymore? I don't want to know from week to week which little furry angels didn't make it out.

So I helped them to the bridge today. I gave them the lethal dose, but you decided their fate way before I. You see... You gave up on them. All they wanted was your love, and you weren't willing to provide that.

With each one, I caught a glimpse of their eyes and had to fight the urge to take them home. That little red and white baby, he was so scared while he was here, perhaps I can add one more to my family? But I can't. There are way too many, and the reality -- bitter though it is -- is I can't save them all. All I can do is offer them love....

Why couldn't you?

-- Steph Ravin