The Art of Letting Go

Mowgli Rockefeller BoJangles, Major Tom Hotpants  

(aka. Sir Captain Hopscotch)

You came to us,
           a few short weeks after we lost our other cat.

You came to us from out of the woods
          and we called you Mowgli.

You wanted nothing from us but our affection,
         which you returned tenfold.

You came to us, skinny . . lost . . all ears and paws.

You came to us, our handsome cat-man.

For nine years, you followed me around,
     screaming at me until I sat down
          because a lap was the only home you ever wanted.

You slept under the covers, or at the foot of the bed.
You slept with my arm wrapped around you,
           your head on my pillow.
You woke me early in the morning when you wanted fed.

You showed us your big paw when you were happy,
       with a regal purr and clip-clop claws.
   The looks you gave . . melted all pain away.

Your sickness came quick,
                   caught us unprepared.

Your energy dwindled and your hunger left,
                  but your love remained until the end.

Our hearts have a place for you that will never be filled,
     but we are forever grateful for the time with us that you spent.