Rookie, beloved cat
Twelve years ago a little cat in a tuxedo walked up to me at the corner of Duncan and West Side, and asked “Will you be my person”? I give thanks for the grace which led me to say yes, and I picked him up and tucked him inside my vest. He has been ill for the past couple of weeks. When tuna and ham and raw egg and even his beloved cat treats become pale delights, it is time to say goodbye, which we have been doing for the past few days. Today we made the sad and merciful trip so that his end was as peaceful as most of his life. Rookie loved to receive and give affection. He was usually timid, but not when he got outside on his monthly journeys to the Poconos, where he would quietly munch grass until the spirit took hold of him and he would dash across the yard to rocket ten feet up a tree, take a look around to make sure he was being seen, and then scamper down, to saunter back to the house with studied nonchalance. He wore a perfect tuxedo, all mahogany black except for one whit...