"for God's sake,let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings"|
"You were only a cat" I tell myself. But, you were so much more, there's an emptiness in my heart, that shall remain empty til we are reunited. I was 50, freshly divorced, and kind of wandering thru life when I found you.
As a kitten, I had to coax you to eat, taking you to your food dish, and telling you what a "Good boy" you were, and watching you for a few moments. As you got older, You came and got me, and lead me you to your dish, and I still had to tell you that you were a "good boy", and you would eat, occasionally looking back to make sure I was there.. That was the ritual 4-5 times a day for 13 years. Sure it was a pain, at times, but, a good one.
You knew by command what not to do, and obeyed.. after 2 or 3 warnings. I miss your gentle pawing of my knee when you were hungry, that turned into a gentle bite on the hand when I ignored you, then came the hard slap on the arm that forewarned of a fit, if you didnt get your way,soon. I miss holding you, even tho you did not like being held. The few precious moments when you'd put your head on my shoulder b4 wanting back on solid ground. I miss you walking me to the door, and greeting me when I returned.
You were never more than 3 feet away, and God forbid a door should come between us. That was "unacceptable". You were a stickler for the routine, 6am mornings would be my wake up, you, pulling at the covers, purring loudly, on my lap while I had coffee, the sound of the can opener meant you were getting tuna water!! your favorite, tho you would not eat the tuna. At 11pm when it was bedtime, "OR ELSE" a running fit ensued. The day ended, a new one on the way.
Then the day came that I had dreaded everyday,yet knew was inevitable, for 13 years. When you got sick, The vet gave me medicine you hated, but, I was determined. I watched for 3 weeks, devastated, as you broke the bond between us, staying away from me as much as possible. I knew the end was near. Thanksgiving day i spent with you, begging, pleading with you to live, yet, knowing that the next morning would be your last. I should've died of a stroke, 7 years before, so the Dr.s said, but, you wouldn't allow it. For the weeks I was bedfast, You were always there gently purring in my ear, giving me life. I could not do the same for you. This wasn't right. I am so sorry my baby boy. The next morning I took you to the vet, who eliminated your pain, but, gave me a permanent, new 1. When I carried you in, a tech was waiting, and whisked you away from me, your goodbye was a confused, scared, pathetic yowl from another room, that tore me apart inside.
HOW YOU GOT YOUR NAME:
Poems and Stories