Harlequin

Harley was a supernova of a cat, bursting into our life with sudden brilliance. She had been abandoned, barely a year old, pregnant and FeLV-positive. Her chances of survival were slim, perhaps only two months, perhaps two years. We chose to give her life, risking the heartache of sudden loss. In return she gave us the most amazing year and a half. She was dream of a cat — sweet and intelligent, playful and imaginative. She had no faults, a perfect companion. Impossible to list all the adorable and clever aspects of her personality, but one of my favorites was her ability to speak in “sentences,” which always contained certain “words” depending on what she wanted to communicate and how engaged she was in everything we did, as if human activity was the most fascinating to a cat. A gentle loving spirit that left us too soon. We will not see her like again. *** Grief, like a grenade, Shattered me. I fell back to earth In fragments. Here a fragment With vacant eye; Still it searches For the familiar form. Here a fragment With deafened ear; Still it listens For the familiar voice. Here a fragment With shuttered heart, Yearning, For the familiar gone. Grief, like a grenade, Scattered me. I return to earth