I’ve always hated this cold, white room with its cold people and cold floors. My paws ache, even though I am not walking but being carried. It seems everything has been aching recently.

I let out a soft whimper as my person sets me down gently on the cold, white table. She mumbles a quiet sound of reassurance, and it’s just enough to make my tail thump against the cold, white surface. I think she notices.

The people talk amongst themselves for an agonizingly long time as I shiver on the table. Why was everything cold? I feel better when my human comes closer to give me a short hug, but the feeling that she leaves behind has a bittersweet taste. I don’t understand the words that leave her mouth next, but they seem serious and genuine. I whimper again when she finally lets a tear fall down her flushed cheek.

Licking the tear away with a brief taste of salt in my mouth, I give her a doggy smile. I only wanted to cheer her up, but it just made her cry even harder. I wonder what is wrong and how I can make it better.

I realize the cold, white human my person had been talking to had come up behind me while I was doing this, and pricked me with some sort of weird claw. Feeling too weak to whine, I simply look at my person. She cries even harder.

I continue to lick her face, trying to take away all her tears that are coming out almost too quickly for me to lick away. She gives me a fierce hug, which I accept with a couple wags of my tail.

The coldness and whiteness of the room suddenly don’t feel as important. All that is important is that I’m here, with my person, in this moment. I think it is important to her as well. It’s still a bit over my head, but I think I know what is happening.

I lay down on the cold, white table, and let the warm darkness slowly take me. I hope my person knows that I love her.

I think she does know.