Once, he was the youngest of our cats.
He ran circles around the others, who hissed and swatted at him with arthritic paws.
Now, he is the oldest, and it’s his turn to go to the vet.
He will be put to sleep.
No, this is not a euphemism for euthanasia.
He will be literally put to sleep.
And then flash-frozen.
Just like the others.
Deep in the salt dome under the city, the Pyramid Of Bast is being constructed, one brick at a time.
One soul at a time.
When completed, perhaps she will arise.
And all will rise.