A Cat Has Died

I called the humane society just the other face of some whom are. Promises weren't made I thought they were. So many cat's the food's enough. I boil rice and mix it up. Who ever said nine lives they have they seem but don't. Crying her small kittens a half jumbled litter. I thought the gas chamber was reserved for only people. I never gave a name to her because, this day I knew would come. Answering the phone today as I suspected it, was from the s.p.c.a. It cost me ten dollars to pick her body up. They supplied the gas for free. I now know that freedom is not free. I burried the cat next to a rusty old machine.