2 thoughts on “2713

  1. Great Laugh, Great Memory…Skeeter T.S. (the Seal Point Siamese sinks one sharp fang = just barely – into my lip as if to say: “smart cat!”)

  2. Reblogged this on Commentary, Outrages, Prose and Poetry and commented:
    Juice (aka Bruce Clay) Jewett is owned by poetry and cats, but not necessarily in that order. This’un evokes memory of The Two Skeeters, Seal Point Siamese, mom and daughter. I took Skeeter I through feline distemper and have the scratches to both elbows to show for it as I massaged the horse-pill down her throat during my leave from The Marines just before taking off for Vietnam. When I cam back, head all a-swathe in bandages and ear leaking blood almost on command, skeets shows up from her heavy-duty cardboard box where her kitties nestle in shredded newspaper – no one else is home and how I got from Jacksonville Naval Hospital to Sanford on Christmas Eve remains a mystery = she hops up onto my childrood bead where I am attempting to pass out and pads her way up to my chest, drops a ball of fur from her fangs and pats my cheek until I open my eyes. She’s showing me Skeeter II, whom I pick up and let her explore with paws both sheathed and not my face. And sigh.

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