About a week before I began this blog, my dearest friend and one of my strongest supporters, Jon Compton, passed suddenly and unexpectedly. The day before I began this blog, his cat and another dear member of our family, Jade, passed. Last night, I wrote this piece in memorial of both of them.
THE MAN AND THE CAT
Let me tell you a story about a man and his cat.
The man was ill and so was his cat. One was ravaged by disease, the other by age. They still loved each other, though. The man would say that he could not live without his cat and that to see her die would break his heart. The cat could not speak her heart but, to anyone with eyes to see and a heart to feel, she felt the same. Neither wished to outlive the other.
The man grew sicker and so too did the cat. Each struggled on, unable to bear parting from the other. It was a scene that filled their family’s heart with conviction in love’s power and a scene that tore vicious rends in that self-same heart as the race against the Grim Reaper dragged on.
Finally, one evening, shocking even those most-learned and caring doctors who looked after the pair, the man died. His family wept and tore at their hair in their grief. The cat could not shed tears as men do. She could not tear at her hair as men do. All the same, she mourned. Her race was over. She had lost for winning for her heart was broken.
Despite their tears and faint remaining hopes, the family could not even fake surprise when, but a scant week after her true and noble human had passed, the cat too finally slept, tired from those seemingly endless steps.
Once more, the family wept and tore at their hair for now their grief was two-fold. In it all, though, there was a small glimmer of comfort: The man and cat that loved each other so much were now reunited in the heavens above, to fear the race against Death no more.