Mourning Craig
The morons keep bringing me rumors
Designed for naught but torture.
I hope the kumquats are getting
their teeny-tiny shriveled rocks off on my pain.
I'll never know
I'll never have proof of truth
I'll never see justice
or touch that beautiful boy cat again.
It's always the cats I've raised
The ones whom I've devoted/invested the most
love, time, care, effort, affection in...
Some sick fucker is doing the serial killings of my baby cats
just to kill me
more and more
every fucking time.
Smudge, my first semi-feral
tiny little handful of purr
snuggled into my clavicle
heartbeat warm & strong
Pure joy & love, every time he saw me,
vocalizing, rubbing, purring, arching
to get the most from my every touch.
Even as he grew & matured into a
semi-aloof teenager,
he still came to me every day,
and not just for food.
And they threw his little mangled
murdered body into a fucking DUMPSTER
like he was less than nothing
They laughed as I walked the acreage
crying Smudge's name
Their psychotic, moronic, sadistic little games,
lies all around;
I'll never know the full truth
I'll never be able to tell Smudge
Goodbye.
Then not 3 months later, his sister.
Tommie Two-Toes never liked me,
even as a tiny scared baby.
Papi trusted me not to harm his children,
but I couldn't save the badassed bitch queen
from another cold-hearted murder.
I tried to never attach again, but the little bastards
wormed their way into my soul, any damned way.
Beautiful baby Roberta,
leopard spots on her belly,
pure love in her eyes, purr and heart.
I wanted to keep her so badly, to make her my own
(since she'd already hired me as staff anyway)
but of course THAT could never happen.
Thanks a ton again, LandSkanky.
I found her a "home" with callous, bloodsport redneck republicunts
and within 2 months,
she was part of U.S. 61.
They didn't even notice
They never once did care
Just another vermin to them
Another lost child to me.
No serial killer there, far as I know
My guilt kicks-in every time
that I wonder whether she died
in trying to return to me
or trying to outrun another sick-fuck redneck's truck.
There are so many of them,
serial-killer wannabes
sociopaths who target cats
because, to them, it's "FUNNY"
and besides, it's not like "anybody"
will CARE, right.
I lost Marina, Cathy's heart & soul
in trying to save her neglected life
in trying to make that 18-year-old dowager
COMFORTABLE, healthy, ENJOY her last years,
free of the flea plague.
And I fucked it up.
And I saw the light leave her eyes
Only death I've ever witnessed,
let alone in, by my own hands.
I wanted to help her, save her ---
and the bath killed her
and the friendship I thought I had.
And now I'm paying for that (still).
Apparently, for every single fuckup of my life.
I've mourned animals, friends, beloved humans before.
But the kidnapping/murder of Craig
is damned near killing me, but is never merciful enough to ACTUALLY kill me.
Not to belittle my Nannie or Papa or Tater's deaths,
because I'd STILL have happily taken those bullets.
But Craig...
This makes me want to murder
(yes, I still want to murder Tater's crack-whore closet-case killers,
and the now-unlicensed HACK who turned my Nannie into goulash)
Losing Craig is damned close to how I felt when Tater
was taken from me.
I want to not wake up in a hellhole that murders much-beloved baby boys
FOR SHITS & GIGGLES.
Yes, the world has changed for the better in the past 8 days, in the big picture.
But here in Fucktard Central,
all of Obama's best efforts,
it'll never make a dent.
These ignorant cocksuckers still won't
ACKNOWLEDGE THE DEATH OF JIM CROW.
To them, a cat's death is a GOOD THING.
Same thing for a poor human boy.
Small wonder that woman-hating
white trash from DeRidder feel
"empowered" to inflict their vast ignorance &
willful, purposeful EVIL upon this place, those cats, ME.
I wish I'd been able to save Craig's two orange brothers
(dumped here when I was having spine surgeries #3&4 last year)
I wish I could find the scum who threw three tame babies out.
I lost Xena becasue she got here abused & brain-damaged,
and I will pay for that the rest of my days.
But dammit, no matter my billions of failures & fuckups,
on NO PLANET IN ANY FUCKING UNIVERSE IS IT
FAIR TO PUNISH CRAIG FOR MY STUPIDITY!!!!!!
I know that nothing in "life," as they call it, is "fair."
If "fair" or "justice" or "gawd" existed,
I would've taken that bullet for Tater,
that cancer for Nannie & Papa,
that "fan belt" for Smudge & Tommie,
that brain damage for Xena,
that sudden fragile death for Marina.
I've tried to do good, but have ALWAYS fucked it up.
BUT DAMMIT, why do my babies always have to pay?!?!?!?!?
It sure as hell ain't "survival of the fittest" when it's MURDER.
Not one species has been "improved"
by lowlife scum
stealing the lives of Tater or Craig.
THERE IS NO FUCKING POINT.
THERE IS NO TRUE REASON.
THERE IS NEVER ANY JUSTICE.
THERE NEVER WAS A "GAWD."
Tater should've been 21 today,
finally legal for his cigarettes & beer,
free of the junkie-dealer parasites
who sucked his life away
then prancing away scot-free.
He never yet has visited me.
No dreams, no practical jokes, no ghost, not one touch from the other side,
like all of THEM claim to have received.
Why won't he come? Not even in a Bunch-family-style precognitive dream?
I miss his voice, his laugh, his smile, his brain, his beauty;
that huge heart, though never quite pure...
big enough to hug & hold anyone.
He was no "angel," but he was SO GOOD.
He deserved to build a life for himself.
He deserved to be free.
The timing is sickening.
My heart is shattered into a million more
tiny shards over my baby-boy cat,
the same day that Tater should be
celebrating, laughing, succeeding,
growing up, even past his achingly old-soul eyes,
growing up enough to love himself
beyond all of the pain, abandonment & damage.
He deserved the chance to HEAL, dammit.
But the klan cocksucker "sheriff" keeps getting away with it,
while the main murderer is fucking Tater's big "sister."
Yeah, THAT'S fucking fair.
Like she didn't get enough attention when he killed her brother,
like purposefully giving her baby a heart defect didn't make her
enough of a martyr.
And somewhere, out there, some no-dick fucktard
sucker-of-satan's-cock MOTHERFUCKER
is probably still chortling or pulling his tiny pud,
as he gloats over murdering such a beautiful,
bright, loving, expressive, gentle, funny,
amazing baby boy cat.
He was almost like Tater in a cat suit.
And I wasn't there.
It always happens when I'm not there.
Pulling the plugs on Papa & Nannie,
throwing Smudge INTO THE TRASH,
killing Tommie,
turning Roberta into pavement,
putting that .22 bullet into Tater's
beautiful face & mind,
destroying Xena's mind and soul,
taking/hurting/killing baby Craig.
I WASN'T THERE.
I DIDN'T SAVE THEM.
Designed for naught but torture.
I hope the kumquats are getting
their teeny-tiny shriveled rocks off on my pain.
I'll never know
I'll never have proof of truth
I'll never see justice
or touch that beautiful boy cat again.
It's always the cats I've raised
The ones whom I've devoted/invested the most
love, time, care, effort, affection in...
Some sick fucker is doing the serial killings of my baby cats
just to kill me
more and more
every fucking time.
Smudge, my first semi-feral
tiny little handful of purr
snuggled into my clavicle
heartbeat warm & strong
Pure joy & love, every time he saw me,
vocalizing, rubbing, purring, arching
to get the most from my every touch.
Even as he grew & matured into a
semi-aloof teenager,
he still came to me every day,
and not just for food.
And they threw his little mangled
murdered body into a fucking DUMPSTER
like he was less than nothing
They laughed as I walked the acreage
crying Smudge's name
Their psychotic, moronic, sadistic little games,
lies all around;
I'll never know the full truth
I'll never be able to tell Smudge
Goodbye.
Then not 3 months later, his sister.
Tommie Two-Toes never liked me,
even as a tiny scared baby.
Papi trusted me not to harm his children,
but I couldn't save the badassed bitch queen
from another cold-hearted murder.
I tried to never attach again, but the little bastards
wormed their way into my soul, any damned way.
Beautiful baby Roberta,
leopard spots on her belly,
pure love in her eyes, purr and heart.
I wanted to keep her so badly, to make her my own
(since she'd already hired me as staff anyway)
but of course THAT could never happen.
Thanks a ton again, LandSkanky.
I found her a "home" with callous, bloodsport redneck republicunts
and within 2 months,
she was part of U.S. 61.
They didn't even notice
They never once did care
Just another vermin to them
Another lost child to me.
No serial killer there, far as I know
My guilt kicks-in every time
that I wonder whether she died
in trying to return to me
or trying to outrun another sick-fuck redneck's truck.
There are so many of them,
serial-killer wannabes
sociopaths who target cats
because, to them, it's "FUNNY"
and besides, it's not like "anybody"
will CARE, right.
I lost Marina, Cathy's heart & soul
in trying to save her neglected life
in trying to make that 18-year-old dowager
COMFORTABLE, healthy, ENJOY her last years,
free of the flea plague.
And I fucked it up.
And I saw the light leave her eyes
Only death I've ever witnessed,
let alone in, by my own hands.
I wanted to help her, save her ---
and the bath killed her
and the friendship I thought I had.
And now I'm paying for that (still).
Apparently, for every single fuckup of my life.
I've mourned animals, friends, beloved humans before.
But the kidnapping/murder of Craig
is damned near killing me, but is never merciful enough to ACTUALLY kill me.
Not to belittle my Nannie or Papa or Tater's deaths,
because I'd STILL have happily taken those bullets.
But Craig...
This makes me want to murder
(yes, I still want to murder Tater's crack-whore closet-case killers,
and the now-unlicensed HACK who turned my Nannie into goulash)
Losing Craig is damned close to how I felt when Tater
was taken from me.
I want to not wake up in a hellhole that murders much-beloved baby boys
FOR SHITS & GIGGLES.
Yes, the world has changed for the better in the past 8 days, in the big picture.
But here in Fucktard Central,
all of Obama's best efforts,
it'll never make a dent.
These ignorant cocksuckers still won't
ACKNOWLEDGE THE DEATH OF JIM CROW.
To them, a cat's death is a GOOD THING.
Same thing for a poor human boy.
Small wonder that woman-hating
white trash from DeRidder feel
"empowered" to inflict their vast ignorance &
willful, purposeful EVIL upon this place, those cats, ME.
I wish I'd been able to save Craig's two orange brothers
(dumped here when I was having spine surgeries #3&4 last year)
I wish I could find the scum who threw three tame babies out.
I lost Xena becasue she got here abused & brain-damaged,
and I will pay for that the rest of my days.
But dammit, no matter my billions of failures & fuckups,
on NO PLANET IN ANY FUCKING UNIVERSE IS IT
FAIR TO PUNISH CRAIG FOR MY STUPIDITY!!!!!!
I know that nothing in "life," as they call it, is "fair."
If "fair" or "justice" or "gawd" existed,
I would've taken that bullet for Tater,
that cancer for Nannie & Papa,
that "fan belt" for Smudge & Tommie,
that brain damage for Xena,
that sudden fragile death for Marina.
I've tried to do good, but have ALWAYS fucked it up.
BUT DAMMIT, why do my babies always have to pay?!?!?!?!?
It sure as hell ain't "survival of the fittest" when it's MURDER.
Not one species has been "improved"
by lowlife scum
stealing the lives of Tater or Craig.
THERE IS NO FUCKING POINT.
THERE IS NO TRUE REASON.
THERE IS NEVER ANY JUSTICE.
THERE NEVER WAS A "GAWD."
Tater should've been 21 today,
finally legal for his cigarettes & beer,
free of the junkie-dealer parasites
who sucked his life away
then prancing away scot-free.
He never yet has visited me.
No dreams, no practical jokes, no ghost, not one touch from the other side,
like all of THEM claim to have received.
Why won't he come? Not even in a Bunch-family-style precognitive dream?
I miss his voice, his laugh, his smile, his brain, his beauty;
that huge heart, though never quite pure...
big enough to hug & hold anyone.
He was no "angel," but he was SO GOOD.
He deserved to build a life for himself.
He deserved to be free.
The timing is sickening.
My heart is shattered into a million more
tiny shards over my baby-boy cat,
the same day that Tater should be
celebrating, laughing, succeeding,
growing up, even past his achingly old-soul eyes,
growing up enough to love himself
beyond all of the pain, abandonment & damage.
He deserved the chance to HEAL, dammit.
But the klan cocksucker "sheriff" keeps getting away with it,
while the main murderer is fucking Tater's big "sister."
Yeah, THAT'S fucking fair.
Like she didn't get enough attention when he killed her brother,
like purposefully giving her baby a heart defect didn't make her
enough of a martyr.
And somewhere, out there, some no-dick fucktard
sucker-of-satan's-cock MOTHERFUCKER
is probably still chortling or pulling his tiny pud,
as he gloats over murdering such a beautiful,
bright, loving, expressive, gentle, funny,
amazing baby boy cat.
He was almost like Tater in a cat suit.
And I wasn't there.
It always happens when I'm not there.
Pulling the plugs on Papa & Nannie,
throwing Smudge INTO THE TRASH,
killing Tommie,
turning Roberta into pavement,
putting that .22 bullet into Tater's
beautiful face & mind,
destroying Xena's mind and soul,
taking/hurting/killing baby Craig.
I WASN'T THERE.
I DIDN'T SAVE THEM.
2 comments:
I can't say anything to try to ease the pain. Because I know I can't. But I know too that we can't always be there for everyone we love when they need us most. We try and sometimes we succeed and sometimes we fail. I couldn't help but think as I read this post this morning of my dog Brandy and how I failed her in her final years. I decided it was time to get out of VT for a while but knew I would probably be living in a tent for a while where ever I ended up and with her getting old I couldn't take her with me. I left her with my sister and she did make it another 2 years I think. She missed me so bad and was sooooo excited when I'd come back on a visit. I was the only human she ever really fully trusted and I let her down. One of these days I'll post some pictures of her but I do get terribly sad eveytime I look at those pics. But also some joy that her and I were able to be together as long as we were.
It's a very great heartfelt post Annti. And I hope that writing it has helped some with the pain of loss.
And I'm sorry I didn't leave this comment earlier when I was on here. But my friend Delbert stopped in on one of his rare visits and ended up being here 3 hrs. going on and on about his non-existent love live. We call old Del Eeyore behind his back because nothing is ever quite right for him, there's always something to bray about. Good enough guy though. I wish he'd go ahead and hook up with one of this single women or widows he's interested in but then being an Eeyore he'd have plenty to still complain about I'm sure.
Thanks, Ted.
I'm so sorry that you lost your Brandy.
And there's nothing that I could say to take that ache away; sure, there's tons of trite "she knew you loved her," or "I'm sure that the good times outweighed the bad," or some similarly inauthentic, insincere Hallmark bullshit, but we know that shit when we see it.
If any of the loved ones I mentioned here had died a FAIR or a JUST death, if they'd died when they were DONE, not too soon, not when they had so much left to accomplish, to become, to enjoy, to have it STOLEN from them... I could probably learn to let it go. At least, that's what everybody tells me to do. But they don't know what it's like to live in here, either.
No matter how hard I try, I can never seem to get the justice that I need, or that my loved ones deserve. The system is still broken, the law protects no one but the rich & connected, and the idea of "justice" in this country is a fucking MYTH.
Plus, you add it to the inbred, alcoholic, thieving scum who "run" this Fucktardia Parish, it sets us back an ADDITIONAL 5 or 6 centuries, beyond the typical 13th Century in which Louisiana is so proud to dally.
Beyond frustrating, y'know?
They were robbed, and nobody will ever give enough of a fuck to DO THEIR JOBS and PUNISH THE MURDERERS AND THIEVES. No, they get to live out their lives, like they never did a fucking thing, and every motherfucking day, THEY JUST KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH IT.
Mostly, 'cause I can't stop missing them, but the rage, the injustice, that's what makes it HURT.
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