I came home from a trip away
and my old cat was covered in fleas.
Why had no-one looked after her?
I sprayed her with pyrethrum,
then I thought: It's OK to breathe,
but maybe it shouldn't go on skin.
So I took her to the bathroom
and washed it all off in the basin,
which she hated.
After I'd dried her off,
I put flea powder on her
that we had for the dogs,
rubbed it well in.
That was 36 years ago,
and I only found out today
it can kill cats.
But I always knew I killed her.
It took some weeks.
She got thin. One morning
she went outside and disappeared.
She was 18 then; my first and favourite cat.
This week, in the Writing Our Way Alive course, we are asked for Honesty.
