…Long Live the Warrior

I wasn’t there when she was born
And I was not there when she died.

In fact, I missed a chunk of the beginning 
And too much of the end.

But we had a lot of time
In the middle.

I still will never be able
To account for how quickly 
She attached herself
To me.

She was somewhere in the ballpark
Of nine months old
(Human years)
When she plopped herself
In my lap,
Like her human sister would
In later years.

I was not a cat person
Before her.

But then it became impossible 
To consider my life
Without her.

She was a very furry cat.
I would joke that she wasn’t born;
She spontaneously poofed! into existence,
And her fur was always there
And it always would be.

Even very recently,
And I haven’t lived with her in two years,
I found a large collection of fur
Trapped behind books.

She was special.
She was unique.

I reference her to myself
All the time
And this will never stop,
And even this morning 
I modified another U2 song
For her,
A song for someone,
Someone like her…

She has died
But she will live forever.

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