The warm fur was there
wrapped around my hand this morning.
She’s getting old and I love the warmth
the fur in my face, and her cat smell.
Her black and whiteness and the deep purr.
She's getting old.
She has lost weight and I can tell that her bones hurt.
I don’t want to let her go.
She kept me alive with her catness
back when it was just the two of us against my depression.
She always came when the darkness inside me needed a light. She has always known.
The ways that animals often know.
You’re getting old and grief fills my soul.
I know you can’t stay forever. But I do love you and will miss your closeness.
The dogs will miss you too, but they will not be you.
You were there for me at the right time and kept me alive.
The time will come when you are gone.
I hope that you have been happy.
SHYRA- March 2004 to December 21, 2018
She passed on on the longest night of the year.
She became a new star, a sun with her golden eyes, to watch over my world.
She’s harassing the dogs at the Rainbow Bridge.
She has left a space in my world and my soul to fill with tears.
Almost 15 years is not enough time.
I am a bit fearful without her.
I look for her in sunny spots or curled on the bed. I miss her curled in my lap.
Animals pass through our lives and make us aware of the transience.
Grief is not bad. Living without something to grieve for would be a horror.
Via con Dios, Sweet Kitty. I hope we meet again.