This morning as I woke up, Pidget jumped onto the bed the way she used to. She stood with her front paws on the near wall’s chair railing, and looked back over her shoulder at me with a combination of pet me and get up. Both right now, because she can’t decide if she wants my love in the form of scritches or food. Wants both. Wants my love.
I am so overjoyed to see her here. She hasn’t been in to get me up for months, but this morning, unexpected, she is feeling good enough to jump onto my raised high mattress. She is here in this world to assert herself. And I am fillled with the need to see this image again. I shove aside my urge for camera and give my eyes a moment to soak in all the light rays that show her next to me.
I run my fingers down her back and feel the vertebrae. I can sense the tumor in her lungs pressing against her ribs. And also, the infinite softness of her cheek fur as she presses against my fingertips purring purring.
She gives me a sharp meow. Breakfast is overdue. She leaps down, breathing quick, and I follow.