To all of you, thank you.

To those who are luckily enough to know the love of a pet followed the pain of his/her loss, I hold you in my heart.

Oz fought the effects of the drugs. He wouldn't close his eyes. He wouldn't fall asleep. But in the end even a heart like his couldn't keep beating. He died in my arms, which was as it should be.

He lays now under a wax-myrtle bush. It's leaves smell like vanilla. It's a good place to rest.


Oz, my little buddy.

-Blast