He has grown calm
And reverts back to curiousness again,
As if he were a kitten.
He is passed the highest point of the arch
And slowly growing young
Going backwards
To complete the circle of life.
His hips are going,
He is having trouble walking.
How I wish I could carve him a cane
Out of the bark of my Birth Tree
And filled with catnip and cantaloupe
So he can always have a few of his favorite things.
He can not leave me.


He Can Not Leave Me.
Wait it out.
Fourteen years isn't quite long enough to know someone.
Do not.
He has grown dirty and adorable, too tired to bathe.
It makes him look supremely adorable.
Wait it out.
Just a few more months.
Or years.
Or lifetimes.
Wait it out.