She didn't need to give up like she did and to add she didn't have to go to someone else. He was trying so hard for her, he wanted to be better and he... thought he was..she told him he was. But in the end, it didn't seem true.He didn't understand why it came to this, he didn't want to die; it just hurt that much. He just wanted or be better and now— he couldn't… but what made it worse for him is that he wasn't moving on as if he was just stuck there letting the torture go on even further. After. The next morning, Saturday, I woke her at seven o'clock. We hardly spoke as we ate breakfast--Millie made scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee, wearing a floor-length terry robe, and we ate in virtual silence. "More coffee?" I asked as I got up to get mine. She just shook her head. We were finally done. "Time to go, baby," I said. She nodded again and padded off to the bedroom, shoulders slumped. I began packing the car with the few things we'd need. A blanket, too big and thick for her to. That was when I heard it - a low, guttural moan. I had never heard anything like that in my life and I figured who- or whatever had made it must be in pretty dire straits. Now mind you, I was big into helping out people in distress, but I was curious. The moan sounded again as I stepped into the hall and I followed it down the hall toward my aunt's bedroom.The third moan was more like a muted bellow, and I wondered if, somehow, one of the calves had gotten in the house and got into something it. "Listen to me, you must understand, I'm not a wo." my voice trailed off asI realized that I really sounded like a girl without trying, "what happenedto my voice!" Yes, my dear, we fixed that up. I don't know what unspeakable thingsyour previous owner did to you and your voice, particularly with thatbarbaric electrical collar, but our surgeons worked on your larynx and youhave nothing left to worry about. Your voice is back to its normal octave."he said warmly. "No! That was my normal.