Friday, September 13, 2013

Keeping Cats

This cat reminds me of Alonza, who travelled with us to Oregon, who was a foundling in our apartment complex in Mountain View, Ca. She never did get over her early loss of her mother, was needy to her dying day in that uncomfortable way some cats have. We loved her as best we could.

Did you think I wouldn't know
my old cat dropped dead?
She hesitated,
more or less dropped right in her
dodgy left foot tracks,
her tail switching time
until her rust blood beat out
one last wash, her tail
still game if the rest
quit. Yes, I've borne this better
than you could expect,
better than you will
when it's my turn to curl up,
slur one short ditty,
and shed my lead weight.

‎September ‎12, ‎2013 3:05 PM

1 comment:

  1. Well I never bear it well when I lose a pet. May it be a long time, a very long time, before you give a final swish of your tail. Perhaps more important, I trust the getting to that point will be as discomfort and pain free as possible.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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