Loss and a Cat Named Frisky

Last night, April 9th 2015

How do I write to comprehend what is happening to my cat? I have work to do, but I can’t leave her alone.

I’m as trapped as she is. We’ve known for a year there’s something wrong with that thyroid and little heart.

I keep glancing to make sure the fur is rising and falling with breath.

I’ve brought her water, but she won’t drink out of pride – or something less noble.

I rub behind her ear the way she likes, and she purrs, squeezing her eyes and almost smiling. Then she flicks her ear, typical cat.

She’s curled up on the floor, but not all the way like normal.

I’ve heard cats like to hide alone when they know they are going to die. So I’m not leaving. I can’t even read these words or breathe through my nose, but I’m not leaving her alone.

Dad’s asleep. Mom’s at work.

A big thunder clap made her eyes flair open. But she’s safe from outside – but I can’t save her from her inside.

I’ve had blasted awful thoughts about her big bag of food, kittens, vets, needles, fur, and a hole in the ground out back.

Then I kick myself because she’s right here with her paw tucked beside her chin & her tail is curled up.

I stroke the head again, & she turns her head, opening her paw like she does when she flips on her back to curve in a big arch

– but she stops –

wide eyed. She can’t do it.

— Friday, April 10th 2015

I remember how she used to chase me on the stairs. A sneak attack of needles in my legs.

She’d chase me through the house in a one-sided game of tag.

Every year we’d take a picture of her laying on my school work.

An annual tradition – that I will miss.

The liver. It did it.

And that blasted needle too.

While on the phone I gripped the metal can rack at work.

I’ve had a year to “prepare”.

You just can’t do that. I don’t care who tells you so.

I numbed over. Taking orders for hot dogs and scoops of frozen custard.

With a smile and a hello, I had to respond, “ok” when asked, “Hi, how are you?”

But not really “ok”.

I’m just going through the motions; $3.50 is your change.

Have a nice day,

And no, I can’t really have one too now.

The “feels” arise

When I see her clumps of hair stuck to the carpet.

That old melted bead thing

I made in 6th grade

Of her. Black and white, spotted,

With green eyes and a white tip on her tail.

I told her good-bye before work

But I thought it was, “See you later”.

But that’s how life

and death


How do you say good-bye

To someone who’s been in the family

For 14 years?

She was the smartest of the kittens,

the prettiest cat


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I am a 7-year-old​ stuck in a twenty-something's body. I enjoy long walks on the beach and peanut butter on waffles. If the following combinations of letters mean anything to you: OYAN, LotR, F.R.O.G., AiO, OBPC, DIY Then we can be friends. And if not, we still can be friends!

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