“I want you to be around,” whispered her small, mousy voice. She looked up at me with sad, yellow eyes and reached up for a hug.
“Let’s make sure it lasts at least 20 seconds,” I said as we held each other.
“I’m already counting,” she replied. These hugs — the ones that we both knew might be the very last ones we’d share — lasted more like a minute each. She would pet my head, and I’d hold on as tight as I could, being careful to not hurt her frail body.
