Emily Popp

© Copyright 1999 by Emily Popp

Currently I keep one cat, a long-haired orange tabby named Goldie. She has small eyes and is surprisingly awkward and clumsy for a cat. But I love her all the more.

My dearest and most favorite cat, Sylvia, was hit by a car on July 17, 1999. She was a dilute tortoiseshell. We will always miss her, but I know that she has gone to a better place.

So many times I've thought about you;
Your soft fur your friendly mew.
The way you pleaded with those big golden eyes,
The way you begged to go outside.

I remember your odd coloration;
Smoky gray and tan was a real variation.
The way you always knew when something was wrong,
The way you swished your tail so silky and long.

Why did you run across the street that night?
Were you startled by the noise and bright lights?
The way you laid there so quiet and still,
The way I felt when we buried you on the hill.

But Sylvia, my Sylvia, it's not really that bad.
Even though because you're gone I'm very sad;
I know that you're on Earth no more,
You're gone to a place with no pain and no sore.

I know you're very happy up There.
A happiness that here on Earth is so rare;
So I'll remember the good times I spent with you,
And I hope that up there you're remembering them, too.

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