A Song for Leo…

Three weeks ago my youngest daughter’s cat died.

He was only 11 months old.

The most natural way for me to record the sorrowful passing of Leotard Chewbacca was in a poem:

A Song for Leo

He was tall

Very prim and proper,

All dressed in his pinstripe suit

Ready for his day.

All that was missing was the bowler

And furled umbrella.

The perfect City-cat.


He played ball

Fetched and dropped at Daughts’ feet.

Almost barking… expectant,

Eyes fixed on her face.

He tossed it in his water bowl,

Batted it with his paws.

The perfect cat-dog.


He waited

Patiently by the door.

She rushed, impatiently home.

They cooed and meowed,

He chased his tail, she laughed, he purred,

Then snuggled and slept.

The perfect companion.


He caught mice

At night, dropping the morsels

On her pillow to wake her,

Flexing his talons,

Padding and demanding his treat.

A just reward for

The perfect mouser.


He danced,

Weaving through her ankles

Or against her chest, his head

Upon her shoulder.

No longer a kitten he turned

Quiet and demure.

The perfect barn-mate.


He lost weight,

Grew picky with his food.

Meals and water left untouched,

Energy seeped out.

His eyes became expressionless,

His pinstripes unkempt,

Disheveled…dog tired.


He gave up,

And before Daughts knew it

Her prim and proper kitten

Laid against her breast

And crossed over the rainbow bridge.

He left a paw print

On her heart as goodbye.


She sees him

When she comes home at night.

Talks to him from her kitchen

As he rests ‘neath the

Beautiful, fragrant evergreen.

Bird song fills the air

For her sweet, brave Leo.


R.I.P. Leotard Chewbacca, the perfect little man.

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