Cat

by Alex Gallo-Brown

I called him ‘cat’

and cat he was.

An orange tabby, you might say,

although not me—

I know nothing about cats

and am only slightly better at color.

But I called him ‘cat’

and along he came.

Our relationship was simple, transactional.

I paid for his affections

with the pellets I bought once

from Petco—only bought them

the one time, we did not know

each other long.

He was an orange cat who lived

next door, a playful, affectionate,

jocular cat who slept on top of my car

and sunbathed on my front porch.

I suppose he had a soul

as well as the body I found yesterday

when I came down the front steps.

I hope that to die for him was different

than what he had supposed, and luckier.