Bayla died yesterday.
It happened in the car,
on the way to the vet.
We weren't ready for her to go.
We never would have been ready.
She'll never
dance by her water bowl
or drink with her front paw
again.
She'll never
sharpen her imaginary claws
on the corner of the coffee table
or the underside of the dining table
again.
She'll never
serenade us from the bathtub
in the middle of the night
again.
She'll never
sit with her front paws crossed
and her "we are not amused" face
again.
She'll never
lie on the bed
next to DeeAnn
or Jasper
again.
She'll never
be curled up in a ball
with her paws over her face
again.
She'll never
wake DeeAnn in the morning
by patting her face
again.
She'll never
sit inside a cardboard box
again.
She'll never
lick or chew a plastic bag
again.
She'll never
play with her curly ribbon,
batting at it
and chewing on it
again.
She'll never
rub her face against the wall
or on the book we're reading
again.
She'll never
stand on DeeAnn's thigh
and beg for a piece of sandwich
again.
We'll never
feed her lunch meat
from our sandwiches
again.
We'll never
comb her tabby fur
and remark on how much she sheds
again.
We'll never
hear her thundering down the hall,
running away from Jasper
or chasing him
again.
We'll never
see her grooming Jasper
while he sniffs at her neck
again.
We'll never
hear her complain
when Jasper bites her
or when we pick her up
again.
We'll never
check her belly
to see if it's pink or fuzzy
again.
We'll never
clean up after her
or give her a pill
or worry if she's eating
again.
We'll never
hear her snoring under the bed
again.
We'll never
kneel down on the floor
to see where she's hiding
again.
We'll never
watch her walking across the bookshelf
or have trouble jumping onto the bed
again.
We'll never
hear her licking her catnip mat
with her scratchy tongue
again.
We'll never
feel her lean into our hands
as we pet her
or rub her chin
again.
We'll never forget her.
I'm happy
she gave us fifteen years,
like DeeAnn asked.
I'm glad
we were both with her
at the end.
I hope
she knew how much
we loved her.
Good-bye, Bayla.
We miss you, baby-girl.
