Skinny and grey
he leapt into my trailer
then looked around nervously.
I popped a can of cat food
and he chomped away as his
eyes darted around at the
mysterious and dark
surroundings.
I already had cats
so I put him back outside.
About a week later he
appeared at the back door
looking even skinnier and
greyer in the harsh light.
This time I put him in the car
and drove him to the vet.
The vet showed me that
the he was covered with
caked fecal matter and fleas,
and we could both see that his eyes
were oozing yellow goo.
He put the anti-flea solution on him,
gave me some antibiotics,
cat shampoo,
and vitamins for him.
The cat was very old
and had missing teeth.
When I got him home
I told him he could stay.
I would be his
retirement plan.
I figured I could do better
for him than nature had.
I gave him a bath and
kept him in the bedroom
where he rested his tired bones
in a premium cat bed and
ate voraciously. He’d had it
rough outside, so I even
got him a bubbling cat fountain
and a glow-in-the-dark collar
with his new name and info.
engraved on a heart-shaped tag.
As I rested on my futon,
he lay on my chest and looked
at me. When I turned on my
stomach, he jumped on my back and slept.
And when I turned on my side
he managed to balance there,
his head held up proudly
like the Sphinx.
Then the diarrhea came
and came.
No big deal.
I cleaned it up.
He was more than worth
the effort.
He’d been neutered
before he came to me,
so I guessed that he’d been
someone’s cat but then
abandoned.
People are beasts.
Sometimes he made it to
the litter pan.
He did his best.
The vet advised trying
boiled chicken and rice
for a while to settle his stomach,
so I cooked
for the first time in many years.
Then, about a month after I
adopted him, he stopped
eating altogether, wouldn’t
touch the chicken or the
different brands of cat food.
He couldn’t
even get up. The vet said
he was moribund and had
reached the end.
I didn’t want him to suffer
or die
alone when I was at work,
so I stayed with him as the vet
prepared the needle that
would help him pass. I told
Francis that his soul could
follow me home or go ahead
to that painless place
where I would be with him
again someday.
Afterwards I stayed in the
exam room with him for a
while. Then I took his collar
and put it in my pocket.
You are my boy, Francis,
and I was lucky to have you.
I will follow you home
someday.
— Fyodor Bukowski
Musings, Mutterings, and Condemnations 