Mark's Pages

July 8, 2004:

Black kitten, feral, couple months short of maturity. Dying. Sits all day on all fours, waiting, lethargic, runny-eyed, its little pink tongue lolling. As if the maximum conservation of energy would preserve its life just another few hours. Or as if there were no longer anything worth moving for.

Straw-colored tabby, full grown, feral, cautious. Sits with its friend for no reason but solidarity, providing the only comfort possible, warmth and the caring touch of a living thing.

I bring them water, so they don't have to move. Thinking of you, wondering what you would do to help them.

Animals are sometimes more human than we are.