Stella

Goodbye, my pretty girl, who became my lovely lady.

I’ll miss you on my lap. (The lap it took you six years to get on.)

I’ll miss having you on the bed with me. 

I’ll miss fighting you for my chair on the deck..

I’ll miss sharing the garden swing with you. 

But you’ll be with me in the garden, where, next summer, a fragrant Princess Anne rose bush will begin to bloom.

Well, you were a princess, my dear, so it seemed an obvious choice. 

It happened so fast. Too fast. It does with you cats, doesn’t it? One day you seemed to be recovering from your urinary infection, the next you stopped eating. This morning you could barely walk.

And now you are sleeping permanently in the garden, close to the swing you loved so much. And I will miss you so much.

Goodbye, dear friend.