Hospice for a Long-Life Cat
little curl of black and white,wild child, couch scratcher,
chicken thief, sneaky ninja,
sooted snout, meow,
wisp of fur at tip of ear,
dip your nose in a cup,
now a towel from the
dryer’s hum, let me
keep you warm.
My cat, Molly, suddenly became very sick over the course of 24 hours, to the point that she was no longer eating or drinking. She couldn't stand, and could barely lift her head. I took her to the vet, where she was given fluids and a medication for nausea. The vet explained to me that this was likely the result of her thyroid condition that I've been treating for several months. He said that, ultimately, the progress would not be good. This condition is a progressive illness.
Molly is 14 years old.
He told me to take her home and keep warm towels on her, provide hospice care. He didn't know if she would make it through the night.
I wrote this poem for her when I got home with her from the vet.
Molly made it through the night, and eventually improved over the course of several stressful, tense days and many tears on my part.
I wrote this poem on October 23, 2014 as part of Tupelo Press's 30/30 Project.