Thursday, November 19, 2015

The Cat



When she died,
I had to arrange the funeral,
sort stuff,
and find a home for the cat,
the goddamn cat

that chewed through oxygen tubing
and slept like a cockleburr on her chest;
the mean-ass cat

that had nothing but claws and teeth
for anyone but her;
the wretched cat 

that I couldn't keep
and couldn't keep out of the shelter;
just a fucking cat,

but her cat.
And I mourn it like a second death.

For The Mag

13 comments:

Marina Sofia said...

This packs so much pain and anger and grief - a cry in the dark!

Susan said...

insightful

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh yes........how heartbreaking that must have been. This goes straight to my heart, Kelli. Life can be so damned hard.

Berowne said...

Sharp and surprisingly moving...

Kerry O'Connor said...

I cared for my grandmother's dog for 10 years after she died, but never truly loved him. There is such pathos in the pet that is left behind when someone has passed. It must have taken a lot of strength to write of this particular cat.

Michael said...

You have picked out this shared experience expertly. I know exactly what youre talking about

Gail said...

You have wowed me again!

You take the ordinary things and bind them into such beautiful word packages. I celebrate your gift.

Fireblossom said...

I agree with Kerry, I expect this was probably a very difficult thing to write about.

hedgewitch said...

We can't love every animal any more than we can love every human, but part of us always wants to--here the animal is bound up with a whole lot of things that are hard to love(or face) Very fine writing, MZ--troubling and intense.

Sylvia K said...

I can feel a lot of pain and I'm certain it was indeed a painful thing to write about, MZ.

brudberg said...

That would be a cat to hate with love.. So much tied into that last 9th life.

Brendan MacOdrum said...

This mean ass cat reminds me of the immense pile of slides I carried back from my dead brother's apartment in Salem in 2008 -- caring for a legacy that really only meant something to him. But I loved those pictures intensely, enough to have 'em scanned and archived and sampled at a memorial blog that was active a few years. Those pix are his second death. Amen.

Kathleen said...

Outstanding, Mama Zen. So impressed with your handling of the repetition as well as the spare use of words to convey such powerful emotions!