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In Memorial: Pudge
Apr. 3rd, 2013 10:12 pmOn Easter weekend, my cat Pudge passed away. He was 13 and had suffered from a long-term illness. If he hadn't died, we likely would have put him to sleep.
Pudge was aptly named - he was a fat orange cat whose pastimes were sleep and food. We used to joke that we should have named him Garfield. He did no one any harm and spent his life among those who loved him.
It was simply his time to go.
As the chill recedes,
Your spirit leaves us behind
To walk the dream road.
We will shed no tears,
For your memory stays here;
With your death comes Spring.
Pudge was aptly named - he was a fat orange cat whose pastimes were sleep and food. We used to joke that we should have named him Garfield. He did no one any harm and spent his life among those who loved him.
It was simply his time to go.
As the chill recedes,
Your spirit leaves us behind
To walk the dream road.
We will shed no tears,
For your memory stays here;
With your death comes Spring.
