Yesterday, his last with us, was Brisbane autumn at its most glorious.
In the early morning I sat beside him, he on his fat feather cushion, me curled up on the carpet. Later as the sun rose higher I carried him outside (his legs were so wobbly he kept falling down) and found a warm sunny spot by the pool for him to rest. He spent the whole day there; lapping water from the edge, listening to the fountain, watching the shadows.
Late in the afternoon when the warmth of the sun was gone I carried him back upstairs to his cushion and the heater and I told him how much I loved him.
He died a little after 6pm, so quietly, so peacefully and I held him close feeling his warmth, loving him.
Wilbur was with us for 18 years, the girls do not know life without him.
I can't find the words to tell you how much my heart aches, so I leave you with these from Nanushka:
'My best friend
died last summer -
that lovable little character
who wore her own fur coat -
She was my confidante,
and my clown -
she was my warmth,
my welcome home -
We buried her near wild mint and thyme -
I wept for her all winter,
then in early spring
made a garland for her grave
where passing birds and butterflies
call in to visit natures shrine -
what happens to us when we die -
I like to think
her spirit is running free,
perhaps to grace a person
in some other life -
what a wonderful human being
that would be ...