“who is god if not my cat?”
sitting still sunning on the rug in front of the window,
he breathes in, breathes out, breathes easy.
he dreams of rabbits, maybe, but i don’t know
if he’s ever seen one; he lives his life indoors.
he’s old now so when he moves, he moves slowly.
intentionally. he knows which turns of his body
will hurt, so he avoids them.
i once had ovarian torsion but
before i knew my organ was
twisted, was rotting, he knew.
he sat on my head, purring
and purring and purring,
refusing to leave me alone.
he loves me when no one else does,
sits with me when no one else will.
what is god if not the thing
that brings you the most comfort?
who is god if not a bundle of
orange fur that yells at me for food
every morning before the sun comes up?
Rachel Tanner is an Alabamian writer whose work has recently appeared in Moonchild Magazine, Barren Magazine, Peach Mag, and elsewhere. She tweets @rickit.