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A Sunny Spot in the Garden

Last night’s storm gave way to a clear sunny day.  The candle burnt out, the wake for Petey was over.  The ground has been well prepared by the rain.  Dark, fertile soil, soft, yielded to the shovel.  We lined the bottom of the tomb with flowers from the garden.  Petey was put inside a well-worn pillow case before we lowered his body into the earth.

Dore read the Kaddish from the book of prayers.  Klimey came out and sniffed around the hole.  But when we started to push the soil back in she ran back into the house.  Cookie stayed inside the whole time.  She and Petey were never close.

We put a circle of stones on top to mark the tomb.  On a day like this Petey would sun himself on that spot.

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In Thunder and Lightning

Petey rolling under the sun.

Lightning kept flashing outside the windows.  Sydney counted each time, “one, two three…” until thunder rolled down a strike.  It was Finne night but the only thunder word we came across was two pages ago, and it had nothing to do with thunder.

At home Petey our orange cat who has been suffering from congestive heart failure was giving out what seemed like his last cries—heart-wrenching, sad goodbyes that he was uttering to us.  We wrapped him in a blanket and put him near the heater, but he was determined to go outside, in the storm, to find refuge in a little igloo.

I found Petey dead next to the igloo a little after 11pm.  His eyes were bright and big, as if he was still alive.  The rain-soaked ground had made his feet wet and the night air cooled his body.  I carried him inside and put him in a box.

In thunder and lightning Petey goes.  All we are left with is memory.

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Mr. Petey Goes To The Doctor

If cats have nine lives, we have seen our orange furry son Petey living through his third.  Petey was rescued from the Martinez shelter on the day of his execution.  After living with us for a short time, he developed some blockage in his urinary tract and was on the verge of death.  We found out just in time to save him.  Since then Petey has been the man of the house.  With his tail forever up he walks with a sexy strut.  Lately we notice he is losing weight and his alluring behind has turned skinny.  A visit to the doctor shows that he has irregular heart beat and may have recently suffered a stroke.  Now Petey takes three pills a day.

Lucky for Petey he gets special diet for his urinary condition and medications for his heart.  He would not survive if he was born in Morocco or Turkey where cats are everywhere and people don’t have the luxury to care for them.  The value of a life is dependent on its location.  Isn’t it also the case for human beings?

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