Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Looking for a sign


Looking for signs
 Sally would only drink water that was moving. Where was the sport in water captured in a bowl? Where was the magic? When Sally could no longer leap to the top of the clavfoot tub and land gracefully inside, that was a sign. How many signs are necessary?

Another sign

Sally loved to sit out on the deck in a certain pale green lounge chair. When she could no longer leap up effortlessly, that was a sign

 And when Jana and  I watched Television

She would come into the room and vacillate between us. who would she choose… my sister or myself and for how long? My sister never had a cat, but she did sorta like Sally, and she did like being chosen. I would occasionally hear her say:” So how’s it goin’ sal?” At the end, Sally stopped keeping us company.   

And finally…
 When her back legs didn’t work at all and all the fun was gone, the vet came to the back porch and put her to sleep and Tom and Olivia were there to say goodbye and we buried her in the back yard with Izzy, and Buddy and Eric under 3 beautiful stones and a cast iron cat and very soon Olivia will plant ghost ferns there to keep my white cat company.