Robert Bingamanのインスタグラム(robertjosiah) - 12月4日 12時54分

Douglas,

As I write this, you are sleeping on my lap; your tiny claws clasped together, your heart beating harder than it should. Little micro sounds of pain and discomfort escape from the place between your nose and throat. Even in your sleep, you won’t let them be louder, for fear that our peace here together among the blankets should end.

I got you a month after I moved to Kansas City, and a month before I proposed to Molly. The farm you came from called you little boy Blue. I called you Doug. And tonight, so soon and at last, our time together has passed.

At some soul level, you started breaking our hearts from the beginning. Your earnestness. Your satisfaction with our presence. Your profound love of pleasure. Our little sultan. I beamed tiny goodbyes your way from the day I met you, knowing I would never be able today.

You taught me to care for little ones, smaller than myself. You taught me the responsibility of total dependence. You taught me to listen. It was such an honor to be the one safe enough to hold you at the end. Such an honor for Molly to be the last person you saw.

Defying breed and even genus, you were more texture, scent, and spirit than anything tangible. No matter how many pictures I shared with the world, you remained our secret. I hope to find whispers of you in others. I know I’ll find you in myself. We thank God for our time with you.

Goodnight, sweet Doug man.

Douglas Bingaman
May 2007 - December 2018

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