Dedicated to Lee Edward Knight. May you meet your friends again.

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"I'm sorry, you knew this day was going to happen." the doctor looked at the frail shocked body of Greg.

"Doctor are you sure, I don't feel that bad." Greg wished the doctor was just pulling a joke. HE knew this day was coming, ever since he got this disease, this sickness he was just living on borrowed time given to him by drugs and treatment. It was luck that he had the time that he lived.

The doctor slowly moved his hands onto Greg, "Greg, I'm not pulling any punches here. Your body is showing all the final signs of destabilization. The drugs will fail in days, or even hours. It will be a matter of time before….", He stops, knowing he was a little to harsh, "I will do everything to find something to help."

"Thanks…. I better go." Greg solemnly walked out of the doctor office. "IT is over, this is the end," his thoughts repeatedly echoed in his mind. His feet moved in a direction, a path to where his love was, Pam. Pam, the love of his life, the woman who he shared all his joys, all his triumphs, all his sorrows. The woman so strong she watched him go through the treatments. Watched his arms get shot up with every know drug on the planet, and watched Greg's face grimace with pain. The woman who was sleeping pleasantly sleeping in her bed, alone.

Greg, tenderly stroked her long blond hair, she was an angel, sleeping in a white fluffy heaven. He couldn't bear to give her the news, looking at her. He had to do something, before it was too late. He walked into their kitchen and he wrote. He wrote about the happy times, he wrote about the sad times. And everything in between, their love, their life reduced to a simple story on a few pieces of paper. He was strong, he didn't cry until the end he reminded her that he would be there, always by her side. "Nothing in life could part us, Death won't either." his tears rolled down staining the page. He sniffled, he thought about rewriting it. So his tears weren't on the page to show how strong he was. But these were his words, so true so loved.

He walked back to her bed feeling a little light headed. He looked at Pam, smiling he put his notes on her pillow. He looked at Pam for the last time and softly he wept, crying out his tears. All the time, his chest felt lighter, taken fewer breaths, and fewer beats of his heart. Until he could cry no more, not for lack of trying but his eyes had lost their tear ducts, lost their way of crying. His eyes grew almost to comical proportions; the paint glistened off the little light in the room.

Greg was loosing energy, was losing strength and he noticed this was happening. He tried to scream but he couldn't. His lungs were just some spongy material inside his chest. Without any control, he fell down onto her bed hoping to wake her. He landed with a soft thud, no louder than throwing a pillow on her bed, a sound that didn't disturb his girlfriend's gentle sleep

His thoughts panicked, "The doctor was right, I was ready to go. The disease was kicking in and in a few minutes I will be a goner." And a content feeling, a soft warm glow, spread like water seeping from his fuzzy heart down to his feet. The feeling settled in his mind, flowing through his body, Greg smiled. Opening his mouth a little, showing his little triangle pointed teeth, all white and soft. His red tongue melted into his expanding dry lower muzzle. Slowly his face broke out, gray soft fabric and fur blossomed from his skin as pleasant thoughts filled his mind. His memories, his favorite moments he had lived. He saw them again. Greg smiled, the last moves of his muscles as his muzzle locked into place. The tip of his nose reformed, looking almost wet in its black pimpled plastic. His ears started drooping, but slowly they stood up, and with the help of metal they stood up into a pointy tip made with the softest of fur available.

In gentle motion both his hands and feet shrank and mergde forming soft fabric paws. His feet slid out of his shoes and his legs shrank through his empting pants as his soft tail formed and pushed out from his soft plush back. His thoughts were pleasant and happy as his asshole stitched up and his crack expanded to form a round moon. His balls and cock shriveled and whitened. Forming the tags stuck in his stitching.

His body not needing the space it took up started to shrink, pulling Greg's neck and muzzle into his baggy shirt. His body smoothed out, losing all muscle definition, growing a gray soft coat of fabric across his body. His belly button opened exposing a small fabric tunnel growing, expanding, tunneling up his chest, into his neck, breaking the bones of the brain cavity, and emptying out his muzzle. Stitching formed quickly around his body, keeping his insides in shape, his body in form.

In silence Greg sat there, underneath his clothing. Not able to move, but feeling content. "It is over" he sighs, "My disease has taken its course and now I am done. My body is gone and just my soul remains…" He laminted, but he didn't think about it anymore. He felt a new purpose, a new life with his soul. And inside he smiled, just like the smile on his muzzle.

Pam rolled over in her bed, laying her arm on Greg's letter. She didn't remember leaving anything on the bed. She groggy turned on the light; click. She saw too much, she screamed. Her boyfriend's clothes lay there. Flat, as he landed on her bed, except for something in her shirt. She didn't want to look but had to. She feared for the worse, and her fears were there. Sitting in the middle of her boyfriend's clothes a timber wolf puppet smiled back at her. "This must be a joke… This must be…" she flipped over and look at his tags. Instead of a make of the puppet, it said some simple words, "Pam, I love you" Her tears streamed as she realized the disease had taken its course. She hugged the puppet, "I'm sorry Greg" kissing the puppet tenderly on the face, and petting his fur.

Greg felt good, her hugs even full of tears he was still by her. She was still holding him, kissing him, loving him. Just like he was in real life.

She lifted her head, her tears streaming from the sides of her cheek as she found Greg's final letter. His final words for his love. She looked at her timber wolf friend and slid her hand into his mouth.

Greg never felt more alive. Pam drove the words out of his mouth, and he gladly spoke every word of his letter to her. Sometimes Pam laughed, looking at the puppet giggling as it smiles back. Other times she cried holding her puppet close. And at the end she hugged Greg the puppet and cuddle up with him. Whispering in his ear, "I love you too."

She slept, holding him tight and dear. The next day she made the decision, she was going to tell no one. No one had to know what happened. If they did they would put him in a casket and bury him underground or cremate him. But, he gave himself to her. And she could feel him still alive inside. She couldn't lose him again.

And so Pam kept him on her bed, by her side. Afraid to let him go, afraid to tell anyone about Greg by her side. He was hers and no one was going to take him away.

Greg couldn't be any happier. He was loved, the center of attention, the focal point in Pam's life. Together they did things together, learning how to entertain, performed in shows, entertaining children and adults at night. But never a day she missed their special event, at night she always held him tight in her arms and reminding him how much she loved him. Kissing and hugging him before she fell asleep, holding him softly in his arms.

One night out after five years, she didn't show for up for her performance. This was very unusual and caused concern with her friends.

After the show her dear friends went to her house. The house was perfect, but no signs of her. Her friends went into her bedroom and gasped. Two timber wolf puppets holding paws sat quietly together on the bed. She cried, not of sorrow, but of joy. They were together. No one was going to part them.