Amy Kitchener's Angels Without Wings Foundation
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There will be no more carrotsThe black rabbit lies on the red rubber hot water bottle next to the radiator and the man strokes him. There will be no more carrots, scraps of lettuce, no more chewing the baseboards, grunting for fresh water, no more lying in the sun in the outdoor hutch. But this winter morning, too, is beautiful -- the old, old age, being reminded of stretching up to bat Christmas ornaments, told a story about gnawed chair legs. We all want to be stroked and spoken to and loved when we die.
Maren C. Tirabassi
Portsmouth, NH |