Sad Orange Evening
at four a.m. the cat looked really awful. when i checked her again at 7 a.m. she had passed. Miss Sheba the cat. 1991 - 2006
( plus however old she was before she came here to live). i believe she lived a long and happy life, or as happy a life as anyone has in this house. she enjoyed many afternoons in the yard hunting everything in sight, chasing imaginary things on the wall, and learning how to climb ladders. i don't remember exactly how old she was but i do remember coming home from the mall with a Peter Gabriel cassette (I believe it was US) to find that she had pissed on my pillow. I Loved That Fucking CAT!!!! this is to you Miss Sheba. you always looked like you had something sarcastic to say. I will miss you for that...
after i got rid of all the cat's stuff i wrapped her up in this green army fleece i found in the basement and put her in a box in the garage. when my mother came home she kept going out to view her throughout the day. a miserable day with nothing but rain. my mother finally went to bed around four this afternoon and i figured i'd better do something. i seem to remember burying a rabbit in the yard once just to days later see all of it's fur blowing across the yard. then i remembered that the cat was the one that had dug it up. i have no idea why this made me laugh as i went about the morbid task of picking a spot and digging a large enough hole to hold the little coffin i had improvised. it was still pouring and miserable when i placed this little package in the earth and covered it up and tamped down the muddy soil. i took a step back and realized there was this odd orange glow about everything. that moment when the sun reaches that angle where it just has to come out before it sets. i lit a cigarette and thought i should say something. "whisky and raw whores" is all i could think of. the house is now petless, which is for the best. unless you count me as some kind of caucasian gorilla, which i often do.... so say a prayer for a damned fine cat as i say good riddance to one sad orange evening....
goodnight kitty.
love and love...
3 comments:
That cat did always look like she had something sarcastic to say.
As I was reading about the rabbit's fur blowing across the lawn and the line about remembering that it was the cat that dug the rabbit up, I started laughing out loud. And then I read the line "I have no idea why I thought this was so funny..." I don't know why it's funny, but it's completely absurd.
Where exactly is Sheba's gravesite? I pulled out a picture of her and was thinking about making a little shrine.
Oh, and I believe she was already 2 when we got her.
Rest in peace, Kitty. You could piss on my bed even while I was sleeping in it, and I still loved you.
the fur blew round the tetherball court. the cat is buried right behind the garage. mom said it's too close but i cannot deal with "dig ups"
next week is thanksgiving. dad and j. are now employed in places where they belong...
bartles will be in town and i'll remember what whisky is!
i keep seeing the fucking cat walking around. not like a ghost or anything, but regular house noises that i've usually ascribed to the cat turn out to be nothing but heating vents and plumbing, i guess. i've never been sentimental , in fact i usually try to remain quite emotionless, but i guess you can't deny a good pet. i had a dream that we got a new cat- one that didn't act like a complete son of a bitch- and we immediately returned it. enough said about the cat...thank you, by the way. i am much better anecdotally...
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