You’re the cat I truly didn’t want,

but my wife did, so take a guess.

 

You’re the cat that left hairballs

right where I could find them at night.

 

You’re the cat who head-butted me

while yowling to be fed before sun-up.

 

You’re the cat curled up on my lap

while I sat by our mistress’ sick bed.

 

You’re the cat sitting in the window,

watching me make food for her wake.

 

You’ll always be the cat I truly needed,

the cat I’m glad came, the one I miss.

 

(after the unattributed early 20th century
photograph of the headstone
of a cat named Dewey)