Episode 18 of The Writer.
It isn’t enough to say that TW (aka The Writer) was crying as he headed his car home. In the passenger seat was Cat, lying in a box. He was weeping.
Overcome by grief, he pulled his car over to the side of the road and cut off the engine. Sitting there, looking down into the darkness at the box, he could still feel Cat’s presence. “What am I going to do?” he asked the dead cat.
He heard Cat whisper back, “It’s okay. You’ll do fine. I may be gone but I will still be with your.”
A flashlight shone into his face. “Sir?”
TW looked up at the police officer.
“Are you okay?
TW shook his head. “Yes, I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” The policeman’s voice was soft with caring.
TW managed to hold back his crying but his voice broke. “I just lost my cat.”
“I see.” Then the flashlight went off, and the cop was gone.
TW started the engine and pulled out onto the road. He drove slowly to make sure he didn’t have an accident.
When he pulled up into his driveway, it seemed like days since he had gotten into his car to take Cat to the vet. He eased himself out of the car. He went to the shed beside the house and took out a shovel.Then he went inside for a flashlight.
Standing on the back porch, he studied the yard and found the perfect place. One of Cat’s favorite spots in the yard. It was beside the azalea bush.
In the dark, he began digging. He pushed the shovel into the ground. The dirt gave way easily. Then again he did the same motion until he had a hole several feet deep. The sweat poured down his face.
He returned to the car and gently lifted Cat out. The weight was lighter than he remembered. He took the box into the living room. He sat Cat onto his coffee table.
For the next half hour, he showered, then put on a suit and tie. He couldn’t imagine giving Cat a sendoff without being properly dressed. It was only right. Cat deserved the respect. Then it came to him that this was why the Egyptians took so much care burying their cats. They weren’t just pets. They were friends, companions, soul mates.
Yes, Cat must have been his soul mate. That’s how close they were.
He finished the knot in his tie, buttoned his suit jacket, and checked his shoes to see if they were properly shined.
In the living room, he looked down on Cat. She looked peaceful on her tummy, her head resting on her paws. He took a Bible off his bookshelf and he opened it up to the Twenty-third Psalm and he read it to Cat. It was more for him than Cat, and it helped.
He laid the Bible down on the coffee table and picked Cat’s box up.
Standing beside the grave, he lowered the box into the ground. Under a full moon, he had one final look at his companion and heard himself say, “Soon.”