A pregnant cat, a happy distraction
Some sort of innocent thing,
Calico and innocent.

The kittens in her belly said
feed me.

And I did.

She crept with careful eye,
body held low to the dirt,
snagged a bit,
and carried it just far enough away.

She liked the MREs
the beef stew, the chicken breast
the barbecue pork,
But she did not like canned sardines.
I do not blame her.
I would do the same.

She came around again and again
Finally deciding that I was no threat
That this big man wasn't so bad.

I was afraid to touch her as the
docs warned us
Iraqi animals were carriers of flesh-eating disease.
I donned a plastic glove and
was the first to pet
this wild creature who may be

The one true heart and mind
America had won over.

After a while I forgot the glove
and enjoyed
The tactile softness of short fur,
Flesh-eating bacteria be damned.

Her belly swole for weeks
And she disappeared for some days
Until her kittens were safely birthed
In the shallow of a rusted desk
In the ruins that lined the road behind us.

She came around again slim
with afterbirth still matted to her hind legs
She was back again, but not
Quite as often.
She came to eat and for attention
But there was nursing to be done.

One day she crept up with
a kitten in her mouth
She dropped it at my foot and
stared up at me
She expected something, but
there was nothing I could do.
The young black and white
kitten was dead
Its eyes not yet opened.

It was Completely still,
Small body curled and limp

She let me take the baby
without a fight
She knew.. .

She fetched me a gift,
A lesson, among the worried nights
Shot nerves from poorly
aimed mortar rounds:

Everything dies
the evil, the innocent
Her baby and me

I thought I should say a prayer
and bury
This poor little thing
I did for it what will be done for me.

And said I'm sorry....

Copyright © Ryan Alexander
3rd Brigade, 2nd Infantry Division, US Army
Mosul, Iraq