September 2003, I was driving my cat to the vet to have him put under. I was listening to the news. The news of the daily death toll in the Iraq war; 5 months after it started, 4 months after the mission had been accomplished. When the regularly scheduled war was interrupted by the news of Warren Zevon’s death.

“Everybody’s signing up to fight,For the right to be wrong.”-SENTIMENTAL HYGIENE

So I did what anyone would do, I dug out my favorite Zevon CD, SENTIMENTAL HYGIENE, slid it in and listened as my doomed cat stared up at me through the caged door.

“Sometimes I drive my carup and down the boulevard.It’s so hard to find it,Sentimental Hygiene.”-SENTIMENTAL HYGIENE

I arrived at the vet, cage and cat in hand, and I was instantly assaulted by a loud TV blaring America’s favorite new reality show, The Iraq War.

“They made hypocrite judgments after the fact, but the name of the game is be hit and hit back.”-BOOM-BOOM MANCINI

In the sterile room, upon the stainless steel table, my emaciated cat walks in slow circles, croaking at me through milky white eyes.

The vet enters, picks up the cat, I say goodbye.

10 minutes later I’m back in my car with a dead cat lying in a black plastic bag in the passenger seat.

As I started the car, Mr. Zevon picked up where he’d left off with his scathing indictment of American violence in the song “Boom-Boom Mancini”,

When they asked him who was responsiblefor the death of Du Koo KimHe said, ‘Some one should have stopped the fight, told me it was him.’ -BOOM-BOOM MANCINI

It began to rain. I dug a hole. Placed the dead cat in the hole. Shoveled the dirt in, and began to worry that the weight of the dirt would crush the cat. I quickly considered the more realistic danger, that if I didn’t cover the grave with heavy stones, animals would dig up the corpse.

I found some heavy, flat rocks and thoroughly covered every square inch of the grave. As an extra precaution I stood upon the grave and jumped up and down to ensure the rocks could not be easily removed. As I stood on the rocks watching the rain come down, my mind was instantly filled with the image of my beloved cat’s frail bones cracking and it's skull collapsing under my weight; my once vital cat reduced to a pulp of blood, muscle, skin and bone.

“And the rain comes downIn the midst of SpringThere’s a sadness in the heart of things.”-THE HEARTACHE