Patch
by E D
You came to me on my ninth birthday in a box that said "apples" you cried all night for your momma that first night and my dad lay down on the floor to comfort you... 6 months old, and you're scaling the curtains, to tiptoe like an acrobat across, to take a flying leap 10 feet above the floor and into the hanging potted plant swinging back and forth like a pirate on the high seas. a year old, that Christmas you brought the tree down, climbing it and playing with your little cousin, untill the weight of two kittens toppled it , ornaments and all... Easter morning brings the sounds of you playing hockey up and down the hall with jellybeans. two years old and you sit patiently while me & my sisters dress you up in doll clothes, strap you into a stroller and wheel you around--you put up peeplessly with our childish torture, and earn your sainthood: you are the Mother Teresa of cats. three years old and you cross the mississippi for the first time in your well-traveled life, New mexico to Georgia, yodeling all the way. four years old and you catch a squirrel in you declawed little paws bring it home to mom an me, proud as can be, into the house still alive, let it go and it runs all over the house... five years old and you are my best freind you sleep in the crook of my arm, under the covers with me. six years old and I find that when I take a bath you like to sit on the ledge of the tub, and drink warm water from my hands. seven years old and I feed you marshmallows when mom's not looking...you're in my lap at all times. When my teenage days are hard, I can bury my face in your fur and smell my favorite smell--you. eight years old and during an argument with dad, you get so upset because you know that I'm upset. you climb onto my shoulders and head and bite my ears, to make me stop crying. nine years old and I go to college, you are alone at my parents' house, and stay in my old room most of the time, and your yowel becomes my name: aaaawwweeeen. ten years old and I bust you out. you will live with me--where you belong, because nobody loves you as much as me. I buy fish for you to watch while I'm away at classes and work. You become the judge of my college boyfreinds, you can sniff out a bad apple a mile away, and select only the best laps to grace with your presence. eleven years old and you're my study-buddy, on my lap as I read my assignments. twelve years old, and you comfort me, through nights spent crying over many things. no matter how hard things are, you love me. When the college stress gets tough, five minutes with you melts it away. thirteen years old and you move with me, to my big job in the big city. On my own and all alone, with my beautiful girl to come home to. fourteen years old, in the apartment...I'll never forget the time you tried to eat spaghetti while my back was turned, I looked to see--noodles dangling from both sides of your mouth, as you fought to grip the slippery things and run away. fifteen years old and we move to a basement, you are up all night meowing because you know the landlord's a shmuck. You lose one of your top fangs, and you become my little "One-Fanged Wonder" You become Anthony's little pal, too--you knew a winner at first sight. sixteen years old and you still chase my hand as I move it like a mouse under a blanket for you...and when we move to the house with the sunroom, you're the happiest gal alive. seventeen years old and you cross the missisppi once again, Atlanta to L.A. You love sitting by the open window in the apartment in L.A., in the sun, sniffing the breezes... eighteen years old and you're an east coast gal again...but you're sick...but you're still my beautiful girl, and I will do anything, anything for you. When you become sicker, we begin to feed you anything you want--tuna, turkey, we cook you little bits of meat & let you drink milk and lick sour cream, even anthony's mom's pasticho... You become so weak that I carry you to the litter pan and bring your food to you. We set up towels in the bed in the crook of my arm so that you can still sleep with me. And then it is time to say goodbye. It is the hardest day of my life. I love you with all my heart, beautiful Patch. You pass away so peacefully, with your little head in my hands. The last thing you see is me, and the last thing you hear is my voice. There can never be another living thing as wonderful as you were, and nothing can ever fill the emptiness in your place. I was so blessed by you.
Comments would be appreciated by the author, E