Sooner or later in the night,
He’d spring onto the bed,
Advance along my flank, and curl
And settle by my head.
I’d stroke his coat to welcome him,
Amused that he should treat
The hive of human intellect
As just a source of heat.
Yet on his last trip to the vet,
He knew I was distressed.
He buried, as I cradled him,
His head against my chest,
And, on my shoulder, placed a paw
And seemed, though drained, to be
Making an ultimate, resigned
Attempt to comfort me.
After his death, I told myself
His was a lucky life.
A starving and flea-ridden stray,
He found me and my wife
And lived with us some sixteen years:
Millions of felines fare
Far worse and never have a chance
Of knowing love or care.
Still, sometimes, waking in the night,
I miss him, and I nurse
The hope that, in the Consciousness
Which dreams the universe
And comprehends all that occurs,
We sleep and wake together
As we did in this lifetime, brow
To brow, nose to nose leather.
You have a decision to make: double or nothing.
For this week only, a generous supporter has offered to fully match all new and increased donations to First Things up to $60,000.
In other words, your gift of $50 unlocks $100 for First Things, your gift of $100 unlocks $200, and so on, up to a total of $120,000. But if you don’t give, nothing.
So what will it be, dear reader: double, or nothing?
Make your year-end gift go twice as far for First Things by giving now.
