Give Me the Old, Creaky Cats

Give me the old, creaky cats. The skinny ones who can’t hop onto the counter as well as they used to, but who try anyway because they still love an extra treat.

Give me the old, creaky cats. The one who still love an adventure, as long as it’s a mellow one with lots of adoring fans at the end. The ones who appreciate every minute with their mama, no matter where that moment is.

Give me the old, creaky cats. The ones who tolerate their mama’s urge to take goofy selfies with them and share those selfies all over the internet.

Give me the old, creaky cats. The ones who still love to “help” with all the important projects I need to do … and even the less important projects like playing a fun computer game on a rainy afternoon.

Give me the old, creaky cats. The ones who curl up in their heated beds to take the chill off and ease the aches in their bones.

Give me the old, creaky cats. The ones who still love high places even if they need a helping hand to ascend the peaks and survey their domain. The ones who love a shoulder ride as long as I help them keep their balance.

Give me the old, creaky cats. The ones whose first love will always be my lap — whether they have it to themselves or they have to grudgingly share it with another feline companion.

Give me the old, creaky cats. The ones who gracefully tolerate trips to the veterinarian because they know they’ll feel better in the end.

Give me the old, creaky cats. The ones who teach me lessons about love, aging, and our eventual mortality.

Give me the old, creaky cats. The ones with whom I can lovingly share their last moments, unafraid of the pain I will face as I watch them breathe their last breaths.

Give me the old, creaky cats. And when they’re gone, I’ll cry as I place another collar on my altar, a reminder of how much their lives meant.

Give me the old, creaky cats. And I’ll smile through my tears as I remember that no matter how short a time we had together, it was a time full of joy. I’ll smile through my tears knowing that they didn’t have to spend their twilight years in a shelter waiting for someone who might be brave enough to give them a place to rest their weary heads, but instead got the gift of a warm home full of love and compassion.