by Era Golian
Pumpkin in his prime
I let sweet Pumpkin go this morning; I have to believe to a better place. Almost to the last he would limp to the door each morning and sniff the air and watch and listen to the new day, as interested and bright eyed as ever. He slept the afternoon away in his basket on the back porch. And at night, he would curl-up and sleep next to me - patting me with his paw when he wanted pets or it was breakfast time.
Sweet kit, he was there when others failed, when I failed. Faithful friend and companion for all those years. I miss him beyond what words can say. Sweet pet, sweet boy, I love you so. I would that yesterday would be forever, that your purr filled the room, that your wet noise pressed into hand, that I could sweep your whiskers back across your face again, that I could see you run in the yard and delight in your play.
I hope, I pray, that we will meet again, but until then, I will remember you and count your days as a blessing.