Talk Is Sheep

Dear Queen of Cyprus,

I’m sure you died a valiant death, like the little backyard warrior that you were. Sad to say the place of your death was not so honorable. But that’s ok, you died in peace. We’ll miss tripping over you as you lay on the oriental rug with four paws up and all your belly fat splayed out for the world to see. I’m sorry we didn’t stuff you, please forgive us. We were too shocked really to follow through with that. We’ll miss your food-induced dog like ways. I know that you really only followed us through the woods because you knew we’d feed you when we got back to the house. But that’s ok. It was fun having a cat who would actually come when you called. Thanks for all the mole-presents, mouse-presents, bird-presents, rabbit-presents and frog-presents. You were a hard worker and a proud hunter and I think mom’s the only one that didn’t appreciate your offerings (they grossed her out, she’s girly like that. I would have recommended a bouquet of flowers for her).  Thanks for the litter of kitties. Sorry that we killed one, it was an accident. I wish that you hadn’t gotten Tux killed out there somewhere in the woods, but I guess we deserved that. I’m sorry that creatures have to grow old, get fat, and meander around with arthritis. I’ll always remember you as the kitty who got stuck on top of the grandfather clock. Thanks for helping Clint and I get used to “stupid northern PA“. Enjoy the land of your fathers.

Lee