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Cats Purr When They Are in Pain

This poem is about me and a stray cat.

By Amanda ZylstraPublished 6 years ago 2 min read
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Cats purr when they are in pain.

I was eleven years old when I learned this.

A pure black male cat I called Honey.

He had a large scab that covered the left side of his body from sitting on an engine block trying to stay warm in a Michigan winter.

Someone started their car and the fan blades cut him severely.

This cat was a fighter and this wound was not going to be his demise.

I poured hot water I microwaved over a frozen plastic butter bowl of water in my parent's garage so he would have water to drink.

He was the cat that other children were afraid of based on his appearance.

He was an outcast in the society of stray cats.

The ones in the worse shape need my help the most.

I have always believed this and live by this rule.

I made friends with this cat.

He would sit on my lap and rub against my legs.

I had built a trust with him and we were instant friends.

Honey Cat reminded me of the first cat I had ever loved.

A cat who lived to be seventeen years old and had passed away a couple years before Honey Cat had appeared sitting on my backyard picnic table with the peeling red paint.

He was thin and dirty.

I snuck him a handful of the more expensive cat food that the inside cats ate.

He consumed it quickly on the picnic table.

This cat ate inexpensive cat food out of my parent's garage for months until the day he came back worse for the wear.

I remember the day he met his demise all too clearly.

He was lethargic and slow-moving but he made it to my lap one last time.

He sat on my lap and I pet him.

He purred.

But this purr was different than his normal purr.

He was clearly in pain.

He seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness.

His small cat body was weak.

I was afraid he was going to die on my lap.

Yet honored that he used the last of his strength to get to me.

I yelled for my mom.

We brought him to the vet.

Kidney failure, advanced stages of feline leukemia and he had drunk antifreeze.

It was a death sentence.

He was humanely put down and buried in our backyard garden.

I am probably the only elementary kid singing songs to dead cats while standing over his grave.

This cat meant something to me.

He was special to me.

He taught me that those in the worse shape sometimes have the most beautiful souls.

*This poem is featured in Peeling Sanity due for release in October 2018. Be sure to check out my other poetry collections on Amazon.

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sad poetry
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About the Creator

Amanda Zylstra

Cat Lover, Poetry Writer, Tea Drinker, Skincare and Beauty Product Obsessed. Check out my poetry collection "Passing Skeletons" available on Amazon.

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