Between a high cement wall and a tangle of bushes,thin trees, and chain link, there's a forgotten, neglected little strip of land. Grass struggles to grow through sand and rock there. Our feet crunch through that dry ground.
Looking to my left for a moment, I see her carrying the box with both hands, carefully, gently. The box seems too big for such a small, thin person, but it isn't heavy.
I walk with one hand holding my coat together and the other holding a shovel.
Just in front of her, a small bird flits into bushes. It makes a gurgling sound.
The bushes follow a corner in the fence. Orange berries hang from them. We discuss for a moment. We decide. Here.
Kneeling with the box between us, we overcome our fears and look inside. There is crumpled blue paper. We brace ourselves again and look inside the paper. Inside is a beautiful black and white cat. She seems to be sleeping. Her right front paw is shaved where a catheter was taped. A small ball of purple yarn is returned to her-the only toy she ever liked. We each touch her, then wrap her back up. I put a clear piece of quartz on the paper. Clear like her eyes were. Symmetric and as transparent as the soul that...
The box is closed.
After digging for a while, she helps me take my coat off. I dig and check and dig and check. I put 2 pieces of white brick in the bottom of the hole and she puts the box in. Wanting to help, she picks the shovel up and begins burying Chynna. At first the dirt thumps on the box. I finish filling the hole, look down for a moment, and turn away quickly. A drop of sweat slings from my cheek.
18 years is a long life for a cat. We're not comforted enough by that though. Our hearts are breaking.
We walk away, she's holding my left hand and the shovel is the my right.
***
I went to visit the grave that night. I wanted to check-to see if everything was ok. Mostly though, I think I wanted to be near her for a little while.
It was dark and I opened my cell phone to use the dim light it made. It was just enough. When I found the little mound of earth, I talked to it as if I was talking to Chynna. "Are you ok?" "I love you." Alone, I didn't fight the quaking in my chest, the ragged breathing, nothing. I thought only of a big, fat, sleepy, sleepy cat. Black and white with deep emerald eyes. A lifetime of being gentle, patient, sweet, and asking for nothing.
After a couple of minutes, I walked away. Stopping, I looked up. The sky was so clear and the stars were so bright. My eyes turned them into a thousand prisms. Although I couldn't see the stars moving, I knew they were, like hands of a thousand clocks. They all said Chynna's time was gone.
Looking to my left for a moment, I see her carrying the box with both hands, carefully, gently. The box seems too big for such a small, thin person, but it isn't heavy.
I walk with one hand holding my coat together and the other holding a shovel.
Just in front of her, a small bird flits into bushes. It makes a gurgling sound.
The bushes follow a corner in the fence. Orange berries hang from them. We discuss for a moment. We decide. Here.
Kneeling with the box between us, we overcome our fears and look inside. There is crumpled blue paper. We brace ourselves again and look inside the paper. Inside is a beautiful black and white cat. She seems to be sleeping. Her right front paw is shaved where a catheter was taped. A small ball of purple yarn is returned to her-the only toy she ever liked. We each touch her, then wrap her back up. I put a clear piece of quartz on the paper. Clear like her eyes were. Symmetric and as transparent as the soul that...
The box is closed.
After digging for a while, she helps me take my coat off. I dig and check and dig and check. I put 2 pieces of white brick in the bottom of the hole and she puts the box in. Wanting to help, she picks the shovel up and begins burying Chynna. At first the dirt thumps on the box. I finish filling the hole, look down for a moment, and turn away quickly. A drop of sweat slings from my cheek.
18 years is a long life for a cat. We're not comforted enough by that though. Our hearts are breaking.
We walk away, she's holding my left hand and the shovel is the my right.
***
I went to visit the grave that night. I wanted to check-to see if everything was ok. Mostly though, I think I wanted to be near her for a little while.
It was dark and I opened my cell phone to use the dim light it made. It was just enough. When I found the little mound of earth, I talked to it as if I was talking to Chynna. "Are you ok?" "I love you." Alone, I didn't fight the quaking in my chest, the ragged breathing, nothing. I thought only of a big, fat, sleepy, sleepy cat. Black and white with deep emerald eyes. A lifetime of being gentle, patient, sweet, and asking for nothing.
After a couple of minutes, I walked away. Stopping, I looked up. The sky was so clear and the stars were so bright. My eyes turned them into a thousand prisms. Although I couldn't see the stars moving, I knew they were, like hands of a thousand clocks. They all said Chynna's time was gone.
