(The needle and the damage done)

I couldn’t make my hands abandon
the comfort of that crazy fur
sticking up everywhere at odds
like a little gray bear’s coat.

More than cat, you were joy and muse;
an easy companion so true that
I had to be reminded,
“Come on,
it’s just a cat, not a little man
in fuzzy pajamas.”

Still,
we never should have had to part
in that one curious flicker
of surprise and surrender
as you grew very small behind your eyes
and finally disappeared…
leaving me holding only…well…the cat’s pajamas.

The vet asks what I want to do with your body.
The impossible, of course:

Cradle it on my shoulder and
re-ignite the joyful purr,
feel you nestle against my neck as always,
while my weary hands find solace
in the friendliness of fur.