Poem #1643

Signs of Age

My poor cat is getting old,
Signs of the end are being foretold,
Patches of hair have been lost,
More and more of his stomach contents are tossed,
He’s been diagnosed with irritable bowel syndrome,
There’re regular trips to the vet and back home,
He’s now on monthly shots to help his tummy,
Overall it works, but there are still days that are crummy,
We’ve had to regularly syringe him with cat ensure,
To make sure his health doesn’t take a detour,
He’s much thinner than he used to be,
Witnessing his decline is a hard thing to see,
At some point we know it’ll be his time to die,
But right now, neither of us are ready to say goodbye,

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