[ WP ] You are an old , faithful dog who is about to be put to sleep .

I understand what is happening. I'm not an idiot. I've been sick, lately, and getting slowly worse. 
 
 I do n't know what exactly is wrong with me - they used some words I do n't know. I've realized that I wo n't pull through, though. `` Terminal.'' That's a word I know. 
 My Friend is crying. Not loudly, not obviously - I would n't know if I were n't looking at them. I brace myself and strain to reach up and lick My Friend's cheek. They make a choked noise that might be a laugh or a sob. After a moment of gentle, cautious petting - it still hurts anyway, but this is n't about me - My Friend turns to the doctor and says, `` I think I'd rather let him rest now.'' 
 
 The doctor nods and leaves the room. My Friend buries their face in my neck, and it's maybe the most painful thing I've ever experienced - but again, I remain quiet. This is n't about me. 
 
 A few minutes are passed like this, before the doctor returns with a metal tray. I feel guilty for being relieved when My Friend straightens up. 
 
 `` Are you ready?'' the doctor asks - not to me, of course, this is n't about me. 
 
 `` No,'' My Friend says. `` But I never will be.'' 
 
 The doctor seems to understand, because he picks up the needle and readies it at my skin. 
 
 To be honest, I would have preferred to live for a while longer - I could handle the pain. But I know that My Friend does n't like to see me like this, weak and hurting. It's better to just let it end now, even if I wo n't be there to comfort them afterwards. This is n't about me, after all. 
 It's about us.
