Not Good, Not Good At All

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Monday night I buried a kitten.
I was 'working' on my blog when our neighbor knocked on the door.  Ms. Virginia and her husband had a ceramics company during his lifetime, and they made the most beautiful painted animals I have ever seen in mass production.  Her house is a menagerie of these elegant little statues, I have never known such skill in a home based endeavor before.  She had brought home 4 kittens from her friend's place, the friend was out of town and she was going to take care of these little furballs in her friend's absence.  I heard her talking to my brother.  I was already wearing my engineer boots, so I went back to her house with her to see what had happened. 
In the back of her car there was a box of 3 crying kittens, and one that was stretched out and cold.  She told me she thought that one of the adult cats had smothered it, and while that was possible sometimes a kitten will just die.  I know, this wasn't my first rodeo.  We got the kittens settled in with food, water and a litterbox in one of her spare bathrooms, and then I took a shovel from her garage and went out to get the dead kitty.  I had a dishtowel I brought from home and slid the little thing out onto it, it was stiff and saddening to look at.  I took the cat out behind her fence, technically that area is an alley but it only runs behind her house, so she really just has a swath of empty yard next to her fence.  I dug down about a foot before a layer of oyster shells kept me from digging deeper.  I smoothed out the hole and made the poor dead sweetie comfortable, and then filled in the grave.  I tamped down the dirt and then got some heavy tiles she has laying around and scavenger proofed the area.   Yesterday she took the three remaining cats to a vet, now I go over there 3 times a day to force their various medicines down their throats.  They are already looking fatter and their fur is shinier, and their screams reach unto the heavens themselves, yeah and verily.  I am in the midst of raising 8 kitties I didn't ask for but that God saw fit to send me, and I'm stunned that I want to bring home 3 more.

Put the rubber mouse away,
Pick the spools up from the floor,
What was velvet shod, and gay,
Will not want them, any more.

What was warm, is strangely cold.
Whence dissolved the little breath?
How could this small body hold
So immense a thing as Death?

Sara Henderson Hay

The grave has been untouched for these last two days, at least the cat lies in quiet and dignity.  That's not much, but it's something. 
I really like cats.

But it's not all sorrow and heartbreak here.  I took the header photo from one of my micro-essays about pictures of 'pity kitties' that my colleague Andibi of the sparkling wit and excellent deer mythos collects and now I am including a section of it to lighten this morbid essay on the unfairness of life.

Me:  Hey, Andy!

Andibi:  What is it now, Billy? I'm trying to draw.

Me:  What did the German Shepherd say for himself at the Nuremberg Trials?

Andibi:  You do know it's rabbit season, Billy.  You do know that.

Me: You'll really like this one, Andy.  The dog said, ... ha ha ha!... the dog said, - I vas only following odors! 

Andibi: How do you load this thing?

https://youtu.be/XIBZeEsa5fo
 

No one appreciates how extremely witty I am.
 
https://misterscribbles.blogspot.com/2020/06/one-of-kittens-i-have-been-saddled-with.html 
 

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