Still dying

I can't quite belief Luke is still alive at 10:45 p.m. on 2/4/16.
What a fighter he is.

He hasn't eaten for nearly a week. Hasn't drank water for three days except what Bern squirts in his mouth with an eye dropper.

And he lives, hardly moving, but alive.

Half a dozen times I've thought he'd died. And he hadn't.

Tonight maybe. I'll go now  and take out the dog and sit with Lukie, hoping he'll die.

He's been so noble dying.

But it's time.

I love him so and want it to be over for him.

I have a picture of him sitting in a traveling bag that was ready to leave.

If I could I would put it here--that picture--(but I'm not that tech savvy)--and say, with the picture, "Luke is traveling on...."

And I wish he would.

Really, I do.

I love him so, but watching him die is so painful I can hardly breathe.

Surely he won't live past this night.

And I've been thinking that since Tuesday.

I love him so. Enough to wish him dead now.

That much is how much I love him.