A poem submitted for Vince’s Pre-Veterinary Student Scholarship 2023
Nyla was a tabby,
an orange female tabby,
I’ve heard those are rare.
Her olive green eyes, her perfect pointed ears, her pink blush nose,
her perfect cotton ball paws,
parts of her physical flair.
What you can’t see on her surface,
tender loving, charming gluttony, constant companionship,
growing up, she was always there.
And those nights when I shed tears,
when she ran in, offering what she could, I said,
“I’ll be there for you, I swear.”
And so when she needed me most,
in her last days of life,
I supported her, not as her owner,
but as her caregiver, as her sister.
She trusted me, she loved me,
I could sense she knew it was time,
So for the last time, I kissed her.
There she was, old and frail,
on the exam table.
In my tears blurred eyes.
I watched as the serum was injected.
I watched her breath slow.
I watched her eyes go still.
There she lies.
She is gone, but I keep her with me,
in a ring, and in her collar on my wrist,
a life and death compromise.
Not a minute goes by
where I dont miss her
and remember what she meant to me,
what I meant to her in her demise.