The Path of Wildness

"We need the tonic of wildness, to wade sometimes in marshes where the bittern and the meadow-hen lurk, and hear the booming of the snipe; to smell the whispering sedge where only some wilder and more solitary fowl builds her nest, and the mink crawls with its belly close to the ground." ~ Henry David Thoreau

The Good Boy is gone. I came by yesterday a couple of times and he was shockingly thin and lethargic. I petted him for a while and was grateful for the purrs. I had an appointment with my psychiatrist today, so I got up extra early so I could come check on him. I couldn't stand the thought that he might have needed food and wondered where I was. I checked again when I got back from my appointment.

He was strong and gentle. He was courageous and intelligent. His chose the path of wildness and he chose to allow me to help him. I was honored. He would disappear for a few months, a few days or even for a year and then turn up, hungry and vocal. He could have chosen to hang around and be fed. No need to hunt for his own food. He chose the path of wildness.

Since the time he was just a kitten, he would cross the busy street outside my office and head off into a field that surrounded the old airport. He could be a real cat there--hunting prey, beholden to no one. He must have had many adventures, but I know nothing about them. He chose the path of wildness.

After many years, he allowed me to pet him. His demonstration of trust and affection kept me going through some very tough chemo times. He was there for me and I tried to make sure he could always rely on me. We understood each other.

When he started looking really sick, I wished so much to do something for him. But he chose the path of wildness and that path can be hard and lonely. When death came, I'm sure he met it with dignity and courage.

He knew I loved him. I think he loved me. I'm deeply honored that he allowed me to be his friend.