It was late afternoon when I searched for the meowing sound by the river. I found her cat loaf under some tall grasses which served as a dripping roof and the soggy soil her floor. Picking her up with my hand towel, she never moved from my hand as we went from one store to another for a bigger towel, a box for her bed, and some kitten food. When I wiped more of the sticky substance away from her eyes, it revealed a most comely face of a feline, I thought she looked like an angel kitty. When she refused the food I was trying to give her, I stupidly thought that she just did not have the appetite yet, not that she was not weaned yet. The next morning took too long to come, she must have passed from hunger and now I am carrying a very heavy guilt.
I do not know how to shake this feeling off. I knew I had to keep her a secret from our two cats until she could be properly introduced and avoid being attacked but not spending time with her when she was just a little kitten who must have been newly separated from her mother did not make me see her needs. I thought I was kind, not a careless human. How can I make up? I could only stroke her when we buried her, swallowing to myself a most bitter sorry. We spent so very little time together, her life, I cut shorter.
As I cry my eyes out, I cannot bring her back. Perhaps I could channel this overwhelming regret to something. Her sudden and brief existence must have had a message in my life. A push button for me to write my heart out instead, for the beautiful creatures like her.
I have abandoned this website when my mom and Poochee left for the Paradise, Shimeji brought some light again.