Thursday, August 9, 2012

This cat I know, he's sort of my friend...

He was a little rough around the edges. He'd had more fights than he cared to remember, and all the scars to remind him. But he was sweet. He moved through the world with a big tenderness that came from the core of him. There was no pretense. He was most genuine in all of his interactions.
I see him nearly every time I take a walk. In part because I seek him out. There he'll be, most often sleeping. When he hears his name he makes a show of casual stretches and yawns. His excitement betrayed only by the eventual trot to me. His broken and useless front paw making him limp, but not slowing him down. Then we settle in for the loving. He's a drooler, unfortunately, and also a licker. He makes a production of climbing into my lap if I sit on the sidewalk in front of his house. I wonder if his people think I'm crazy. Or if I'm just one more person who they hear calling his name from time to time in the course of a day.
Some day, when he's failed to appear too often in the course of a week or two, I will print and deliver the pictures of him I've taken. Many pictures over the last two years. And I'll think of him every time I pass his house. And I'll miss him. But today...I think I'll take a walk.




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