Photography And Half-Thoughts By Mitchell Hegman

...because some of it is pretty and some of it is not.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Do Not Go Gentle

Feline or human, in the end we all seek nothing more than a dark quiet place.
For Carmel, my sweetest 20 pounds of housecat, the narrow space between the clothes dryer and the wall is that quiet place.  For the last two days, he has emerged only once in the morning and once in the evening at our normal feeding times.  He does not really eat.  Mostly, he nudges his food around the bowl.  He is not very interested in water.
Last night, I rubbed the top of his head and gently brushed him for a few seconds before he slowly ambled away to hide.
Make no mistake, this is heartbreaking minute by minute.
For my whole life I have strove to push hate from my vocabulary, but this I hate from side to side, from beginning to end
This morning, I found Carmel alongside Splash, seemingly ready for something to eat.  He merely licked at his food a couple times once I presented it to him.  Before he ambled off to hide, I scooped him up and rubbed at his skull.  I felt his ribs against my skin.  I felt each small, precious breath.    I told him he was a damned good boy.  I told him I loved him.  I gingerly placed him on the floor and watched him amble off to the narrow opening between the dryer and the wall and then wiped away a stray teardrop that found my cheek instead of the floor.
Dylan Thomas came to me: Do not go gentle into that good night…rage, rage against the dying of the light…
--Mitchell Hegman