"Does cute things."
That's what the lady wrote;
before she died.
Three by five cards.
After each cat's name
she wrote a description.
Baby Ruth.
Gray and black tabby.
Female. Spayed.
Likes soft food.
Does cute things.
A letter arrives.
Certified.
Sandy has died.
At fifty-four.
Please, she had asked.
Please promise
you will find them homes.
They are old now
and they were "hard to place"
when they came to Sandy
So many years ago.
Years of walking
to the store
to get their food
and litter.
Years of carrying them
to the vet --
on foot;
or asking someone
to drive her.
No car.
No license.
An ex who left her
with nothing
but twenty years
of promises.
No one ever said
Sandy
did cute things.
But she must have once.
How else,
in the end,
thin and in pain,
tired,
too tired
to talk,
could she have
carefully added
to the description
of the little cat
"does cute things."
(The Above Is A True Story)
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