In memorium: Leon Mordechai Groseph ? April 2003- 11 December 2008

You were 2 weeks old the first time we met,

Walking like a drunk, your ears still flat.

You scared me that first day, me not knowing cats,

So you became my dog as easy as that.

Many moments of calm whilst I tried to pee,

You’d jump on my lap and dig your claws into my knees.

Waiting in the sink in the morning, water on your head,

Dripped down your nose, filtered by your fur, but there was no lead.

You ate no fish, meat or fowl, refusing Thanksgiving inards,

I can’t understand why you weren’t any thinner

Hummous, vanilla ice cream, salted butter, chicken croquettes,

The plant that you loved but could never quite get

Fur black as pitch, with white roots and near invisible stripes,

Always so calm, never having a gripe

Suzanne came along and took your spot on my lap,

But you always head butted me for a midnight nap.

And then came poor Roger, your sworn enemy,

He became your companion, but never sharing me.

Under the covers at night, settling in the craddle of my arm,

You purred and dug with your breath all warm

Suckling my arm while spooning at night,

I rubbed your fat belly, your claws like mini knives

Leon the Peon, I’ll miss you my friend,

Thank you my Pooperface and see you again.