Rest in Peace, Kramer

Artist with his Cat

I don’t feel like making art today.  I’m posting a picture taken from my local newspaper article a couple of years back, with Kramer my cat on the chair beside me, always believing he belonged wherever the attention was directed.

I came home today after school to find my cat of twelve years dead in his bed.  I knew all day this was going to happen.  When I entered the kitchen this morning, he only opened his eyes and looked at me, then closed them again.  He never got up for breakfast.  Never even raised his head.  Made no sound.  Always before, he howled and yowled at breakfast time, as I could never get his food out fast enough to suit him.  I knew.  He looked good when I came home and found him, the same way I left him, curled tightly with that seeming grin on his face.  I once read that fatigue was the cat’s favorite pillow.

I called the vet to ensure that the city was O.K. with burial of pets on our property, as long as they are at least a foot under the ground.  Kramer loved the tree in the backyard, and ususally hung out next to this sculpture purchased in San Angelo about ten years ago.  So, he rests beneath the tree now, and the sculpture has become his headstone.  The Man Cave is different now, because he’s not sleeping in the chair beside me.

Rest in peace, little friend.  We had a dozen good years together.

 

Kramer’s Resting Place

Thanks for reading.