My cat Bruwyn ran away. He never came back.
A neighbor said that he had seen a dead black cat with a checkerboard collar along the side of the road, but didn’t see the MISSING poster until the city had swept up the body.
I find myself looking at old photos of Bruwyn, trying to figure out what we did wrong.
Was there any clue that he was unhappy? Or felt neglected?
Or unwelcome?
No. He looks like a cat. A happy cat.
Despite having a camera’s flash going off every time I photographed him.
He looks like a cat.