Last night, I carried the lifeless body of one my new cats upstairs from the basement, where he had gone to die. I'm not sure what happened to Cow, a big white cat I've had since late August when I agreed to look after him and a little black kitten for a short time. That short time turned into permanent companionship, although that's now turned out to be short, too. The kitten is now almost full-grown, and she's not sure what's going on. She's been extra clingy with me, and I'm pondering converting her to an indoor cat so as not to tempt fate. Two days ago, both of them sat with me as I wrote here in this place I've carved out as my office within my home. I'm right next to their food. Well, her food now, I guess. This is the second of my pets that has died this year. My dog Billy died in September after a quick illness ravaged his body, which was at least 12 years old. I miss him terribly, and Cow's death is making me feel the fres
Striking down the mundane and dastardly while retaining a certain obscure turn of phrase, denoting something elusive yet concrete.