Sunday, December 5, 2010

And Then There Were Four

Bixby, the last of my original cats, died this morning. He was nineteen and a half. I'm sad. I know I've posted this poem before but I need it again.

Angel Cats

“Angel cats are just pretend
Just sorrows that will never mend”

But if I believe that, I’m untrue
To someone who loved me and you.
For I have felt my cat’s sweet weight
As she cuddles into bed so late
And heard her purrs, and felt her sigh
Mend my grief: sweet lullaby.

Faulty vision? I think not!
An angel cat, off like a shot
For that was how she ran while here:
Now plain sight, now disappear.
Angel cats are surely real
They stay in touch to help us heal
Their fur dries tears that will not dry
And as we mend, our spirits fly.

Rachel McGrath-Kerr


Molly Daniels said...

Oh honey, I'm sooooo sorry! Bix was a wonderful companion to you, and he lived a full life. And yes, that poem sums it up well:)

Regina Carlysle said...

I'm soooo sad to hear about Bix. ((((HUGS))))))