Thank you all for your kindness and support with Simba. He is everywhere his fine fur drifts across the floor in my shoes, around the chairs, caught beneath the doors. In the garden his golden hair, d... Read More
Thank you all for your kindness and support with Simba. He is everywhere his fine fur drifts across the floor in my shoes, around the chairs, caught beneath the doors. In the garden his golden hair, drapes over my push bike, glittering in sunlight, wavering in the air. Birds pluck windblown strands, entangled round leaves of plants they use it to line their woven nests I know he is now at rest. In peripheral vision I see him there, his usual place laid at the bottom of the stairs, when I look around, he is gone, just a memory, an image of what he used to be. now lifeless on stone cold ground, eyes fixed in a vacant gaze, no whooshing tail, no racing around absent excitement, no looking for praise it is still and silent, he makes no sound he has given up the chase. I recall his big brown eyes, his pupils a door open wide, a passage to his soul inside, cognitive tilting of his head, processing in his mind what's been said. no slobber on my clothes, no paw prints on the windows, no lid lifting on the kitchen bin, no clanging as it drops, like a dinner bell ringing to him. no gentle nipping my shoulders and neck, as I tie my shoe laces, why do I feel an emotional wreck? no leaping, no jumping for joy, no fetching a ball or his favourite toy when I stop for time to think into space I blankly stare misty eyes fill without a blink reaching for reason, I despair, I know he is gone, he is no longer here, but in my thoughts, he is everywhere. Simon CakeRead Less