Tater is dead. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n I don\u2019t know what happened. <\/span>Half of my heart has left me and I can never get it back. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n I could go into details about how it happened, but it was so fast. Her little body couldn\u2019t fight the pneumonia she unexpectedly came down with. 36 hours and she was gone. It was that fast. And I\u2019m so angry at the vets, at the events that lead up to it, but I need to let all that go, and not put it in writing so that I don\u2019t remember it. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n All I will say is that it ended with me whispering in her ear, telling her she has been my best friend for the past six years. And then her heart stopped and she was gone. I know that she knew that Pete and I were there, because we gave her permission to go, and she went.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n My heart aches. There was a time when Tater was the only thing that dragged me out of bed. Her insistence on being fed and need for snuggles and play time dragged feelings back out of me when nothing else was working. She was an angel and she saved my life. I have thanked God over the last six years for giving her to me. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n So why did he take her away? Why was she able to save me, but I couldn\u2019t save her? Why didn\u2019t I see that she was sick?<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n She was my best friend. We came downstairs together every morning. She greeted me every time I came home. She waited outside the bathroom when I was showering. She wrote countless papers with me in college, moved with me through three apartments, snuggled me through a few bouts of the flu, and four different jobs. She listened to me attentively when I needed to vent, and responded with \u201cTater hugs\u201d. <\/span>Her and Pete loved each other, and the three of us were our own little family. And now the house is empty and quiet, and I don\u2019t hear the brush of her paws on the comforter, coming to sleep on my neck. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n