It will be three weeks tomorrow since I last saw him:
Last felt his giant paws touching my fingers,
Heard his purring as I stroked the top of his head,
And caught his big yellow eyes staring into my soul.
He had been looking a little less polished of late,
Just an impression I had when I brushed his fur.
Perhaps it was a sign that things were about to change.
Every night - as I prepare for sleep - I visualise him
And send out thoughts for him to be happy and well,
You don't know what you've got until it is missing,
And Ludo is missing from my life - big time!
I can never replace him, you know. Not ever,
First I'd never find another gentle giant of a cat,
And secondly, well, there can only be one Ludo can't there?
Sometimes, when I am sitting at my desk, I see -
Out of the corner of my eye - a shape I think is him:
He had a habit of walking around my legs while I worked.
It was a sign that he was hungry - mainly.
You see, he didn't talk much. His presence said it all.
His big eyes would look at me and I would know -
Mostly - what it was that was going on in that head!
He was sixteen years old - ninety in human terms.
You'd never have known it: he was still catching mice
Even though, when he was still, you could see
His body heaving as he struggled with breathing.
Bless his beautiful, loving, tender soul.
I know I did the right thing: the most humane.
I stroked him and told him I loved him...
As he gently slipped into eternal sleep.
© Griffonner 2020