I find this a fascinating game, as I have been in this exact circumstance in real life. More than once, living in the countryside. I remember especially one very small, very sick little kitten. We swaddled it in a coat, took it home, kept it warm, made it comfortable as we could, and stayed with it until it passed away. We worked with a vet to try and save it, but some things can't be cured. Only endured, until you can't bear to any longer.
That little blighter fought so hard. A fireball to the very end. He was so small.
I've had to do that with one of my pets now, too. Hold them close as things came to an end. Almost two decades I'd known them, and they were a year older than I was. We made the choice to put her to sleep when her quality of life degraded, and I've never stopped wondering if that was the right choice.
I've struggled with treatment-resistant major depressive disorder and constant suicidal ideation since I was a child, and perhaps that's why my understanding of pain and compassion reacted so strongly to this game. Hurting is all it's ever been. If I want to live for even a moment more, for what joy life holds, even in the midst of unbearable pain, I have to hold on through it. If I truly believed that it was the right thing to do to end the suffering of a life that would only hurt and struggle vainly until it died, then I would have been one of them long ago.
The impetus for writing this is that a couple times now I've come back to this page and just sit here with this little bird. Feeling some sort of kinship, I suppose. Some pain can never be cured or vanquished, but it can be shared. It can be endured. We wreath ourselves in the tiny kindnesses of those we cherish, those who cherish us, and we carry on. There's no solution. No true ending. It's just life.
We endure together. We make it as far as we can. This life is worth the suffering it brings.
I can only hope that when my time comes, there will be someone there to hold my hand through the pain and wait with me until it all fades away. Noone and nothing should die alone.
Thank you for this little game, Ivan Papiol. It made me remember bittersweet times with the little lives that gave me comfort in some of my darkest days, and the strength they've given me to remain. I also apologize if I've babbled on too long, as writing this has also helped me overcome a rather bad evening, and I'm rather weepy in the best way one can be. Thank you again, and I hope your day is kind to you.