Einstein

     To the silly kitten who walked into the door,
     and therefor earned him his name.
     To the cat who slept like a rug on the floor,
     they are one in the same.
     He hated his brushings and baths,
     Just like all other cats,
     but he was always special to us..

     To the cat who would blink in the headlights
     sitting in the drive not getting out of the way.
     To the cat who meowed to go out and come in,
     no matter the time night or day.
     Rub his tummy he'd purr,
     he had silky gray fur,
     and now... he purrs no more.

     Who'd think we humans could be,
     So attatched to animals as he,
     He was part of our family you see,
     and we loved him as such so completely.

     

          ... In loving memory of Einstien our cat, who got sick on friday,
and died sunday morning at the vets of cancer of the kidneys - March 1995


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all poems copywrited by Becky Goodrich
all rights reserved, not to be used without
expressed written consent