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Visit My Friends
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The image of Pita resigned to his fate and the discharge oozing from his eyes, resembling tears near Eostre Day. Me getting out of the shower to find Pita not on the bath mat or on the bed but under it. Hiding. How he was so weak that he did not resist in his usual cartoon velcro claw way to the carpet when I pulled him from under the bed and placed him on top of it in a comfy spot.
How the unfortunate day before he died, I gave him a bath and somehow in the middle of the night, he crawled from his drying towel at my side and curled up in my lap. I woke up to a somewhat normal Pita with his dry after bath clean white paws placed just so, assuming his favorite crescent sleeping position.
I hope Pita is in the lap of a plump benign deity tonight.