by Larry Brody
NOTE FROM LB:
Looking through The Return of the Navajo Dog, I saw this poem about the death of a cat I had sometime in the mid-1980s. I’m confused and a little embarrassed because although I remember the cat very well and loved her because she was so gentle with me and considerate of my cat allergies, I can’t for the life – or death – of me recall the dog I speak of – oh, crap, I just did. He was a wonderful dog, allowing for his need to hump everything in his path. And his path, like all of ours, was filled with twists and turns.
Dog And Cat
I had a cat that died suddenly one day.
She seemed to be fighting a great
Battle with spirits only her cat-eyes
Could see.
The battle exhausted the cat. She hid
Under a loveseat, and shuddered, and groaned.
I felt close to the cat as she went. There was a
Bond that hadn’t been between us before.
I was not what you’d call a good guy (at the
Time, the worst human being I’d ever met
Had just told me to, “Be a better person),
But it seemed as though the cat was doing
All this for me.
This morning, my dog woke me with his barking,
And when I went outside to yell I saw his eyes
Fixed on a nothingness in the middle of the yard.
The dog growled, and feinted, and attacked his
Invisible foe. He shook the air triumphantly,
Then grinned at me and circled back to sleep.
I don’t know if I’m a better person, but I suspect
The dog is nowhere near as good as the cat.
She died for my lack of virtue,
While he has killed for my sins.
Larry Brody is the head dood at TVWriter™. Although the book whose cover you see above is for sale on Kindle, he is posting at least one poem a week here at TVWriter™ because, as the Navajo Dog herself once pointed out, “Art has to be free. If you create it for money, you lose your vision, and yourself.” She said it shorter, though, with just a snort.
