One-Eyed Jack

 

I never took a picture of him. He would not have wanted that. He found shelter in my garage 8 years ago, bruised and bloodied from a fight that left him without one eye. I fed him, talked to him, made a warm bed for him in a corner and watched him recover. He never left. Every morning and afternoon he gratefully ate the food I left and drank the fresh water, but in 8 years, One-Eyed Jack never let me get close enough to touch him.

Two days ago, though, as I was placing food for him, Jack cautiously made his way toward me. I knelt down and reached out my hand. Ever so gently, he placed his cheek into my palm and let it rest there. Wordlessly, for a long moment, we exchanged loving energies.

Yesterday, when I placed food again, Jack hid under a chair, avoiding me.

This morning when I went to visit, I found him lifeless. I am so grateful that he had said goodbye in a way I understood. I know he knew that I loved him. Now I wish I had a picture.

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