a dignified life

Haven't been able to write for two days .Every time I try I start to fall asleep.There is no reserve of strength ,no possibility of an extra effort.Life is a constant ordeal:headache,sinus pain like squeezing my face,hard to swallow,an insane aching in all my upper teeth as though the only relief would be to pull them all out, a ringing in my ears denoting an imminent faint from simply standing up.At its worst I could easily contemplate my mortality. I had just one night off to recover.So I drove into the city to spend it with my first born child.
She is a rat girl.
That is to say,she has pet rats.Or perhaps rat companion animals.Or life partners.
It is true love,and one of her best friends is dying.George.He has helped her complete her studies,commence her first professional employment,move into her own apartment,  then consoled her during the trials of establishing a relationship with a human male.He has never been critical or judgmental,and if he has stolen the odd biscuit or nibbled an occasional blanket ,handbag or piece of furniture then there was no malice.When confronted he was contrite but ready to move ahead with the friendship.He did not find it demeaning to be held in both hands and deeply inhaled like fresh laundry,although it is fair to say that he did not personally appreciate being the laundry when given a wash.
He has dealt with the loss of his closest comrade, Matt, and is now succumbing to the same debilitating chronic respiratory illness without complaint.He has had to restrict his explorations and stay closer to home since he can no longer walk without tipping over.This is undignified for a proud rattus norvegicus.The end is approaching.
We walked to a fashionable but cheap local restaurant,leaving George sitting in his favourite blanket in front of the television.The food was appetizing,creative and well cooked,while the service was cheerfully efficient, but my daughter could hardly bear to be away from George who would so soon be leaving her forever.We returned to her flat at the earliest opportunity to find George in the same position as before.Soon he was covered with kisses and the odd stray tear which he bore stoically as he does more and more lately.
George has a last appointment soon with the vet .His last day has been booked like a restaurant or the dentist with arrangement also for the necessary emotional support.She will be with him when he goes.
Next day ,mid-afternoon in clinic,I swallow and it is finally less painful.Shortly after, I can breathe a little through one nostril. I know that my recovery is emerging,but I am still in contact with the feeling that it is possible that I might be so ill that I could just accept my fate.I know I can die but I have never before felt that I could acquiesce willingly.Perhaps it is because I can see the end in sight.The first of my children is grown up,living in the cruel world with courage and love.I wouldn't mind if she arranged to be with me when it is my time to go with dignity.I know I would be surrounded by love.
Vale George.