Tuesday, November 13, 2007


For this week's writers island prompt:

My little friend is sick. She has been with me for about six and a half years now. I remember when she was just a little baby, when I first brought her home with me. I remember the toys I brought home for her, the meditation about our relationship with God that I wrote because of her. I remember writing this poem about her this year, and this one, too.

When I moved out of the house this June, into my own place, my little friend came with me. She was afraid of this new place, as I was, to be quite honest. But she snuggled up with me in bed that first night, and together, we knew we were home.

When I came home from my shoulder surgery in July, I settled on the couch and snoozed for the first couple hours, and my little friend spent that entire time on my lap. She shared her warmth and affection with me until she could tell that I was more with it and feeling a little better.

Every morning, she begins to beg for her breakfast at about 4am if she senses that I might possibly be awake yet. But every morning, I wait until 6am to get up and feed her. Every evening, she tells me that 5pm is approaching, and then leads me to her dish for her supper. (And looks at me with disdain when I ask, what is it girl? what is it? you want me to follow you? did Timmy fall into the well again?)

My little friend is a very respectable middle-aged woman now. She protects her home, tends to me, and keeps my daughter in line. And she hasn't eaten since last Wednesday. She went to the doctor yesterday and suffered many indignities, but we still don't know what's wrong with her, other than it looks likely there's a problem in her liver.

I try to entice my little friend to eat every hour. I tempt her with the stinkiest foods and treats I can find. She may take a bite or two, but mostly she licks the wet food or tastes and chews at the more solid treats for a moment and then spits them out.

My little friend is trying to share my lap with my computer right this very moment. She doesn't feel good, and all she wants to do is snuggle with me and rest. Just like our first night in this new home. Just like when I came home from my surgery.

I am pretty worried about my little friend. My kitty Midnight has been a sweet and loving and loyal companion, and I'm not ready to lose her.