(4 May 1994 – 7 April 2004)
I want to hold him,
To see him padding across the lawn,
To see the lion paws and to blink “hello”,
To shout “Eddie” and have him come as called
And to have three plates at tea time.
I want to feel his purr and see his fallen fur
on the sofa all tufts of grey
and white
and lovely.
I want to have him on my knee to feel that heavy warm weight.
Feel him jump on the bed, forbidden
but curl up and act like “ I should be here!”
I want to see the yellow eyes watch me
as he rolls on his back in his bathroom,
feet folded under the radiator.
I want to see his neck disappear, tucked up when we try to change his collar
and hear the strange chewy noises
when bits of Hills get stuck behind a back tooth.
I want to watch that great front paw greet me, raised,
toes outstretched, or
to see him flex his back legs as if in ballet,
me worried for its safety.
I want to feel that big, warm heart,
that soft grey fur,
that love and trust
and friendship.
I miss you, my daemon, farewell, be safe till I can have all this again
