the gray gentleman, we called him, smoke-soft, big as a barrage balloon, he wafted into any room and made himself available for affection.
this was Meander, that gorgeous galoot: time was and time again I said I’d marry him if he were a man, so handsome, so courteous, who minds a bit of matted fur on such a magnificent beast?
couldn’t quite grasp it when he was gone. Like a sudden, beloved fog. Gone.
and then, Nems. Nemesis, black beauty, wide-eyed, a cuddler, dapper, slim, always dressed so sleekly in assassin’s colors, but lived to be loved.
when he sickened, like a poet, we all lost our appetites. Tidy little guy, all across the miles, I pictured her holding you. Enviable last hours, but. I wish they weren’t yours.
anyway, this is my letter to you, cats. Cats of my friends, my friends. Who are relentlessly kind to small things. Who save as many as they can. Been a dark few months, but your little lives gave off such light.
your memory for our constellations.
– for Jeanine Marie Vaughn and Rebecca Huston