Our cat was named Kelly. She was a tortoiseshell outdoor cat of the '60s who lived on eight acres of an untamed rural homestead. She was as wild as her environment. She regularly fought with dogs, cats, and other vermin. At about 14 years of age, she lost an eye. She was an old warrior that was hard to look at. During her last years, her royal leadership over her subjects seemed to wane. She rested during the days basking in the sun, waiting for her final call. One day, a cadre of chipmunks surrounded her bedraggled reclining body. She seemed to struggle just to breathe. I felt sorry for her as I saw the chippies taunt and mock dancing around her spent frame. I came back later. Kelly's cheeks were full, and a sad tail-less victim was trapped under one clawed paw. The remaining eye squinted a feline smile at my naivety.
As Good Once as Ever Was