Sunday, December 19

Ming Quong and Me
Ming Quong
Today I put my cat Ming to sleep. She was 20 years old. I found her as a kitten when I was 7 years old. It was the hardest thing ever, but she was so sick and was basically dying anyways so it was the only thing to do. So here's the ever so depressing poem that accompanied the experience...
euthanasia
My eyes sting from the many tears.
They fall on a green plaid blanket.
I'm sure it had seen its share.
My chest heaves with sobs.
Hers with slow silent gasps of breath.
The breath of life slowly fading
Amongst whispers of love and apologies.
My eyes blur but I'm trying to see her
To remember her.
Longetivity runs through her veins.
Two doses of death and still her heart beats.
Perhaps all nine lives were not had.
My hand is tucked against her pulse.
In a moment I feel it ever rapidly
And then not at all. It is over.
Twenty years wrapped up in tan fabric
In my arms as I walk out the side exit.

2 Comments:

Blogger r.bean said...

oh baby girl,
she so lucky to have you in her life for so long
your poem was beautiful the fast beat beat to the end...i wonder how we die. i'm certain she was comforted by your familiar hand.
i wish i could hug you.

11:25 AM  
Blogger Sheila said...

I am so sorry honey :(...I feel so sad for you. I know you took wonderful care of her and she was very lucky to have you. You are an amazing person and you have so much love to give...

9:18 PM  

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