Loyal Friend

Spook was a little strange, but a loyal friend… even if he was a cat.

“Let’s do it” he’d meow. 

“You mean practice some more?” I’d reply.

“Meow” he’d purr and pounce at the scratched wall, trying to catch his shadow.  Perplexing.  I didn’t learn anything new about him from his antics, except he was a little nuts.  Actually, I got more out of him by watching him sleep.  Yeah, the occasional flick of his tail, or a paw slap at his whiskers when having a bad dream, never breaking his sleep pattern.  Oh, except when the noisy bird-couples were getting it on in the yard.  That’s when I’d see one eye open, then a dismissive closing.  He wasn’t going to lose sleep over their ruckus-making.  On occasion, he might meow out, “Get a room for God sake.”  I’d nod and compliment him on his good behavior.

He was all black… really black, except for the white glove-like cover of front feet.  Yeah.  Just his front feet.  Those were what rattled the neighbor’s sense of peace when he’d pounce on the piano keyboard and show off his rendition of “Three Blind Mice” which I taught him.

He could be trying at times.  But, aren’t all best friends guilty of that?  He had a sweet side too.

With exquisite precision, he knew just how much to bear down when he’d chew my ear… usually after I’d finally got to sleep after midnight.

Life was going on and I was okay with it all, except…

One day,  Spook just up and disappeared.  Gone.  I called.  I poked around the bushes of the back yard.  Checked with the neighbors who were not particularly interested.  “It’s only a cat” Harry exclaimed.  “Yeah… fuck you, Harry. You can’t say you’ve a loyal friend.  You can’t even say you got any kind of friend.”

I made many a trip through the neighborhood.  Wandered through the woods. Stapled flyers on telephone poles.  I mean, I tried.  The mornings were really bad.  I tear up every time I put a saucer of milk on the back porch and wait and wait.

“Yo, old man” the resident bird in the back yard would call out.  “Good riddance”  I think she knew.   Shit, I thought.  She’ll probably fly the coop too without Spooky to haunt.

Used to have a wife, 4 kids, Spook and a turtle.  Now…

I got to megaphoning my hands and yelling out for Spook.

I still do.  But it’s been a lot of years now.  “Spooky,” I’d cry out a lot.  And tear up a lot.

And… now the feathered fucker is silent.  One day I looked hard for her.  Scanned the tree limbs.  “C’mon you ornery little fucker. You can be my best friend too, ya know.  Just show me you’re here.”

Now I stare at the wall, make finger shadows with one hand and grab at them with the other.  I play that stupid “Three Blind Mice” thing on the piano and I shower the back yard with bird seed every day.  Seems the only time I smile now is when I’m chirping and meowing. 

Think it’s time for me to throw in the towel...too?