An Iowa Garden: Toaster

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Toaster

Seasons, and then lives, all will come to an end,
And so it is, we've now lost our old friend.
Seventeen years we had her, since soon after her birth,
Now she lies still, in the garden's dark earth.
She loved the outdoors, to explore, and to run,
To feel wind on her face, and snooze in the sun.
She was the sweetest of tabbies, always bringing cheer,
We'd had her so long, it seemed she'd always be here.
But time took her health, and age took her sight,
So life became painful, her days turned into night.
Only when sleeping could she now ever be free,
With cat dreams of spring days, and climbing a tree.
On her last day, even with her life taking flight,
She purred in our arms, telling us it was alright.
It may take a while to sink in that we've lost her,
So forgive us if we go to the door and call "TOASTER"!