Sweetie Pie
Sweetie Pie was a good cat.
Dropped off as a kitten, he
blended easly into the family.
He would catch mice, moles,
and an occasional bird,
take a bit or two, then leave my share
on the door mat, as cats do.
A month ago I found him
dead, on the road.
I got the shovel,
but the ground was hard and
I was two weeks post
hip surgery and couldn’t dig.
(excuses)
So…..I gathered up his stiff body,
loaded it in the wagon,
covered him with flowers
and processed down deep in
the woods, past the range of
his stench.
I said goodbye
then placed his body
under a tree where
vultures roost.
I haven’t been back,
but I am sure the Committee
did its job.
Birds eat cat.
2 thoughts on "Sweetie Pie"
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Beautiful and sad poem.
I respect the matter-of-fact ending