Ending
For our wonderful cat, upon whom the ravages of aging took a sudden and final toll; hard to see the little piles of toys around the house, and he's not here to roust me for breakfast. Can't bear to tell my mom, who was very fond of him.
Onward into glorious late fall.
Onward into glorious late fall.
posted by isabelita at 1:07 PM
7 Comments:
So sorry to hear about your cat. I mentioned to Phil, after I read his FB post, that it's hard (for me, at least) to consider them just pets. They are companions and friends.
He was a great drinking buddy. His weakness was Jim Beam Old-Fashioneds.
My deepest sympathies to you and Phil. It's a sad road we all walk down, when we love an aging kitty cat.
Still seeing his "ghost" around here. His "weakness" was anti-tartar crunchy treats, actually. He wouldn't let me get away without giving him a little of every flavor we happened to have on hand.
So sorry! I have one in about the same condition. But I've had him pegged as being on his death bed for about 7 years now so maybe we'll squeeze another couple out of him.
The animals were imperfect,
long-tailed,
unfortunate in their heads.
Little by little they
put themselves together,
making themselves a landscape,
acquiring spots, grace, flight.
The cat,
only the cat
appeared complete and proud:
he was born completely finished,
walking alone and knowing what he wanted.
Man wants to be fish or fowl,
the snake would like to have wings
the dog is a disoriented lion,
the engineer would like to be a poet,
the fly studies to be a swift,
the poet tries to imitate the fly,
but the cat
only wants to be a cat
and any cat is a cat
from his whiskers to his tail,
from his hopeful vision of a rat
to the real thing,
from the night to his golden eyes.
Wonderful tribute, MarcLord!
"Unfortunate in their heads" - love that line. Plenty of human animals thusly traited...
Senor Rico Suave was indeed a gentleman of a cat.
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