How could this world be so cruel? Let everything happened as it did. Let him curl into a ball. Gave him all of these chances till all ran out. Until he was dead, eyes back, on a metal table in a vet’s office, still. How was this god’s plan? What if the doctor was wrong? I want another body scan. But I can’t, because the doctor stuck a needle into his skin, went to sleep, never to wake up again. He’s dead. I can’t bring him back. Is that the truth? He had a brain tumor. Because you won’t tell me the exact reason. Why? Why was it that you picked me up from school, didn’t tell me till I walked in the door, didn’t feel little paws scratching at my legs to realize he’s gone. Why? Is that the truth? Why he isn’t sitting next to me his little tongue out, curled up next to me because he’s scared of the thunderstorm outside. Why? I don’t understand you god. Why not give him one more chance. He only had one. How was this your plan.