Even though he’s been gone
for near nine months now,
I dreampt my cat Joey died.
He was on his side, bloody.
His insides removed,
a failed attempt to save him.
I carried him gently to the tub.
Rinsed his paws,
his soft white belly fur
blood fading pink in warm running water.
Then his legs began to twitch.
I told myself it must be some sort of reflex.
But, he grew heavier,
squirmed, turned to me
with his gorgeous gold eyes.
Snuggled on my neck
like when first we met.
I held him tight
as I asked you
and my Dad
and my Mom
and Nancy and Sue
if it was really true.
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