My cat crept into my heart on little fog feet. I saw him born, but
\nhe knew long before I did that we were meant for each other.
\nWhy shouldn\u2019t cats know in the way humans know
\na relationship is lasting? He did.
\nHe showed me love is a gift, not earned.
\nHe gave me the joy of recognition each time I entered a room
\nHe taught me that he loved gravy more than food.
\nHe let me know that he was more important than my computer
\nsimply by stretching out between the keyboard and the screen.
\nHe hunted wild mice fiercely to prove he could provide.
\nHe trusted me. With purity and unquestioning love.
\nIt made me a better person, living up to his belief.<\/p>\n
He had nine lives that big grey lug. And he used up eight
\nbefore he let me know he was about to go.
\nHe was 21 when he died, as trusting as he had ever been.
\nHis frail old body too weak to move, he could no longer lick.
\nHis fur matted. I knew he didn\u2019t like that.
\nSo with him lying on a pad, too feeble to lift his head,
\nI brought hot water and a cloth to bathe him.
\nI could almost see him smile.
\nThen I swaddled him in towels to keep him warm.
\nWhen I returned a few minutes later, his little life was gone.
\nBorn in my bedroom, and died in my bedroom.<\/p>\n
He knew when to sit in my lap and comfort me,
\nand he knew when to give me space. We grew old together.
\nMaybe that\u2019s why I still think at times I glimpse him
\ncoming through a doorway, or walking into the kitchen.
\nI half expect him to jump up on the bed and use my arm
\nfor a pillow. He left a hole another animal will not fill.
\nMaybe that\u2019s why I have his ashes in my closet still.
\nOnly a pet lover will understand.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My cat crept into my heart on little fog feet. I saw him born, but he knew long before I did that we were meant for each other. Why shouldn\u2019t cats know in the way humans know a relationship is lasting? He did. He showed…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1075,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[1901,374,51,271,31,3316],"class_list":["post-56596","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","tag-animal","tag-cat","tag-death","tag-hour-21","tag-love","tag-marco"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56596","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1075"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=56596"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56596\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":56893,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56596\/revisions\/56893"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=56596"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=56596"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=56596"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}