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Cancer Therapy from petting a cat

January 9, 2012

Groucho must be tuned into me being out of sync. My cat is also my arch enemy, if he caught sight of the tubes dangling out of my back to the bags on my legs, he would probably give thanks to The Great Lord Of Fur for turning me into a living cat toy.

But knowing the Big C is sitting inside me like a lump, a blob of nothingness rimmed with the shape of death, I pet Groucho. And as i pet him, I think of how special this odd living thing with fur is. The wonder of just these pets. And so I pet the life that is within him, and I imagine each pet cutting into the edge of the tumor, chilling it, for there is no life within it. The pets are for and from everyone I know too.

Another pet for Groucho. Another pet for Groucho.

And each pet shows a feeling for life, an affection for it, and that forms a glowing force that surrounds the tumor, rings around it, choking with the powerful strength of the spring within each living thing. Reach out, whatever it might be, stroke the living, stroke the living.
Another pet for Groucho, another pet for Groucho. Another pet for Groucho.

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