Noelle, standing beside me, was nearly in tears. “Elizabeth, I’m so sorry… Snowball ate something bad and got acute myocarditis. The vet said only the ‘special drug’ can save him.”
“It’s been with me for five years; I can’t live without it.”
Jackson looked at the dying dog, then at me, struggling. I knelt, pleading at his feet for the first time. “Jackson, I beg you, that’s my mother; my only family for twenty years, the only person I have left!”
He shut his eyes and looked away in pain. His voice was barely audible: “Elizabeth, I’m sorry. But your mother’s illness can’t be cured. This medicine would only extend her suffering for a few days.”
He paused, struggling to speak. “I owe Noelle too much; she… can’t handle any more stress.”
He gave the life-saving medicine to the dog himself. I cried so much I fainted. When I woke, an urn was in front of me.
“Miss Adams, please accept my condolences.” The doctor’s eyes were full of grief. “Without a cure, we did everything we could…”
I shook my head, not crying. I just held the small urn and sat in the cemetery, staring blankly for three hours.