It is too soon and emotional for me to write about a recent tragic death that occurred within my family: The murder of my most beautiful, kind and spirited niece, Jackie. This horrible act took place in Colonie New York around 3:30 pm in broad daylight as she was closing up where she worked. The investigation to find her killer is active. (RIP Jacquelyn Porreca)
I offer this for September:
In 2007, my partner said, 'Let's take a walk.' I had no desire to go, but I did. We were nearly home, when we cut through the cemetery that is near the back property line. Suddenly, a tiny kitten leaped off a gravestone, and bounced its excited body along a row of stones. It came to our feet. Jean said, 'Please do not pick it up we have three cats.' I sympathized, but I did pick it up. Jean stayed with me as I carried it to every house near the cemetery. No one claimed it or recognized it. We had heard about a man who had been dumping cats in the area for years.
We thought the kitten had one blue eye and one green one. A closer look showed it was not a blue eye, but a damaged lens that bulged out. Jean said please put it down as we entered the cemetery again to take a short cut back to our house. I did put it down, and it followed us for a good length up and down ditches, across a woody and brush-filled area that was three times taller than its' body. She was now ours... we call her Sophie.
The stray calico kitten clung by claws, spirited to the lichen covered headstone.
This ball of fur took a spiraled leap downward to the ovoid of earth, and with a barely a springy touch it catapulted off what lies beneath.
Her life stood again upon a granite head as she appeared crazed from all the gray choices.
It vaulted beyond the mound of that one at rest, and leaped to the kin at the next marbled perch.
I don't know why I cried as I got closer to home, and picked up this determined bounce of fur. I reflected on our walk back... No one had died of late... They have all been gone for decades.
And then away from the cold rows, with a sleepy kitty in my lap, I picked fleas off this warm body one by one... My hand consoling another creature from the blood bites of life's patterns.
I offer this for September:
In 2007, my partner said, 'Let's take a walk.' I had no desire to go, but I did. We were nearly home, when we cut through the cemetery that is near the back property line. Suddenly, a tiny kitten leaped off a gravestone, and bounced its excited body along a row of stones. It came to our feet. Jean said, 'Please do not pick it up we have three cats.' I sympathized, but I did pick it up. Jean stayed with me as I carried it to every house near the cemetery. No one claimed it or recognized it. We had heard about a man who had been dumping cats in the area for years.
We thought the kitten had one blue eye and one green one. A closer look showed it was not a blue eye, but a damaged lens that bulged out. Jean said please put it down as we entered the cemetery again to take a short cut back to our house. I did put it down, and it followed us for a good length up and down ditches, across a woody and brush-filled area that was three times taller than its' body. She was now ours... we call her Sophie.
The stray calico kitten clung by claws, spirited to the lichen covered headstone.
This ball of fur took a spiraled leap downward to the ovoid of earth, and with a barely a springy touch it catapulted off what lies beneath.
Her life stood again upon a granite head as she appeared crazed from all the gray choices.
It vaulted beyond the mound of that one at rest, and leaped to the kin at the next marbled perch.
I don't know why I cried as I got closer to home, and picked up this determined bounce of fur. I reflected on our walk back... No one had died of late... They have all been gone for decades.
And then away from the cold rows, with a sleepy kitty in my lap, I picked fleas off this warm body one by one... My hand consoling another creature from the blood bites of life's patterns.
Sweet Sophie
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