Sunday, 1 May 2016

A small death

 We found her this morning, head gently resting on outstretched paws. Not on her cushion, but  tucked away in a favourite hideaway beneath the table. 
She looked in death, as she had in life; comfortable and content, curled in a question-mark, ready to dream the day away. Yet no soft purr vibrated through her chest and the tips of her whiskers remained untwitched. 
Gently , we carried this now cooled body into the sun warmed garden, and  laid her in rich brown earth beneath the apple tree. 
She was loved.

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