Kneading my knees
Poddling I call it,
Old cat is keen to stay.
I don’t want him to go away.
His life is ebbing
Slowly by
Like a tide moving out
Taking his memory
In its grip.
No more head bumps
No more nuzzles
An empty space expected
Soon.
He’s still here
Mallaband-Brown 
I am so sorry for your imminent loss, my friend.
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Thank you, he’s sleeping now. I’m trying not to disturb him.
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