There was No Treatment

My fur friend Scotty (photo by my wife)

We searched for you at
my wife’s insistence.
She wasn’t a cat person,
told me not to feed you
because you scratched,
but it was just your way
of having fun with me.

You were ready to die
in isolation and alone
hiding in the bushes
as cats are prone to do.
You came for breakfast
napped in the garden.
Let me give you hugs.

It is hard to translate
what I felt in my heart
to see you at my door.
You reawaked my love
and consciousness
that I am a cat person.
Now your death feels

So inappropriate.

Thank you to Ravyne Hawke for today’s poetry prompt.

Check out my YouTube video on my first three weeks on Medium.