Cold Ground

Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying 'Stetson!
'You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
'That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,
'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again'
'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!'

Today was beautiful. It was so full of people I love. Tonight, Merlyn and one of the girlies lie in the cold ground, and Caramel may not make it till morning. When they were last checked by my roommate, they were fine. The cage still had food and water when I got back to it today. It was a little stinky, not enormously bad, but fine. The rats were not.

Vet's not open tonight, of course. Possibly tomorrow afternoon, though I think by then it won't matter, one way or the other. What do I say? My babies are dead. My Merlyn. My Sweetie.

The world is all death and endings and beginnings tonight.

TS Eliot said it all.

To Cupped Hands.

Good-bye, Caramel. Thank you. I'm glad I took that time for that last game of hide-and-seek with you. Despite all the things I said to you, I'll miss you terribly. No one ever comes back again, I know, but you will be remembered and I will look for that spark in others. I won't take the metal guard off the water bottle, promise. I've never actually held anyone while they died before. I hope it helped. I'll miss you, b-rat.

Merlyn, it was a long run. I'm glad we did it together. I was beginning to think you'd never go, defying statistics the way you did. It makes this harder. You were the best, fearless and smart and loving. You were my shoulderrat. I'm sorry I was so busy near the end. I would have stayed home for the holidays and walked you around if I'd known. You were always so obedient, and so patient with me. Thank you. Kisses, sweet.

Small Rat, I remember the first time. You and your sister were so tiny in the pet store. You would have been two on Feb 11th, imagine that! I wonder if you knew how important you were to me, in those days when I was so worried and didn't realise it, when I thought no one loved me, when there was such a gulf between Kynnin and I? If you two hadn't run all over me, tickling me when I lay on the bed, my life could have been so dark. In the end you two were the primary relationship that I left Kynnin for, the emotional support that no one else would give that allowed me to stop suckling where the well was dry, the snuggling and attention that I needed that he couldn't give me. You were my first babies. Your sister will miss you, even though she has Helen to snuggle her. I'll miss you, but you're sewn up tight in my soul. I'll always tell my kids, 'my first two ratties were named Sweetie and Small Rat, because I decided to name them whatever I called them, and it was a mistake. They had beautiful ruby eyes, and ticklish whiskers, and when they were babies I'd lie naked on the bed when I was sad and they'd run all over me and I'd laugh and everything was okay.' I love you, girlie. I've got my feet under me now. Thank you.