So this is the third dead cat story I've shared with e2.

Midnight, the (predictably) black cat, already belonged to my wife when I met her. He lived to be nineteen, when he developed cancer in his jaw. We had him euthanized. He lived a long life, as felines measure it, and appeared to know his last days had arrived.

Slim, a stray who moved in, had already been named by neighbourhood kids. We bonded as I have with no other non-human being. She liked to wander, climb trees, and hunt, but she always came back, usually greeted me when I returned home. A car took her life at night, while she was still in her prime. She hung out with Pyro, a cat who lives with C, across the street. The day after she died, he wandered around our yard, wandered around places they went, sniffing sadly. I am not anthropomorphizing. Pyro missed her.

Two years ago, we adopted another feral cat, Artemis. She'd been living in a farmer's field…

I suppose all stories have some kind of resolution.

the hummingbird only sees the reef through glass
to her it is like driving on the highway
while the fish stand on the dotted white lines
terrified

her world is a vibrance that to a fish is only pain
somewhere travelled begrudgingly
when absolutely necessary

the flowers cannot remember the flood
for those that might are gone
but the bees…

A helter skelter¹ is a type of amusement park ride that was popular in Britain from around 1906 through the 1960s. It consists of a long slide spiraling down around the outside of a tower, which one would ride down on a burlap sack or a mat. The name of the ride comes from the much older phrase helter-skelter, meaning to do something in a haphazard manner or in a confused rush.

While the first recorded use of the term to refer to this type of ride was at the 1905 Hull Fair…