Midnight prowls my cat
for a mouse in a vent.
Catch it before I scream,
before it skitters from under the counter.
But it will come now that you’re gone
because it delights
in your passing.
I don’t have your speed.
Old age took you.
None of us outlive it.
Even with nine lives
it stalked you all along.
Your snuggles and purrs
I feel them, hear them still.
Meal companion and watchdog,
you ruled our sanctuary.
The house echoes
with your ghostly call
and will haunt me until I’m done.
Why don’t mice ever age?
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