Nora, Ernesto and Miss Petunia
One night in January 2011 we were alerted to a cat on the premises of a nearby set of expensive apartments down the street from our central Phoenix house. She was getting snacks from the night watchman. We manged to lure her out and catch her, so she has been a member of the household until recently in 2022 when ill health struck. That was Nora, the black cat. Ernesto showed up on West Palm Lane a couple of years later and was taken in. He crossed the Rainbow Bridge unexpectedly also in 2022. Miss Petunia, the tortie, was senior cat for a while, but ill health took her in 2021. She had been taken in as a kitten and remained a pleasantly unusual cat.
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A Life
I In the Sun Born in a ditch. Or the alley. Maybe under the house. But found and fed. Too shy to be cared for, so ran away. Six months. Then back as a tortie shadow, mostly wild in a half-wild yard. Grew into a regular time of day: morning food and suppertime too. Came into the screened porch. Slept. And the stars purred overhead each night. One year; ten years. Never learned to sheathe her claws. Looked a little bit domestic once indoors. Lured in to have a home. Look, don’t stroke! Still kept to herself, except when the opener ground its teeth around a can. Slipped off to where her fur became invisible. Then slowing came quickly. Easy now to stroke. Growing old from inside. Too weak to run taken out to feel the sun comb back the years these few, late minutes.
II Requiem While a house lay sleeping an owl began its midnight calls. It opened wide its sheltering wings and followed a departing spirit up and over the mountain with its voice the sound of moonlight touching solid ground.
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