Our Jenga

1996 - 2011

I brought you home from the vet hospital where I worked.

We were married just six months then.

You were homeless and so spunky,

With oversized ocelot ears.

You made us laugh with your brainless antics,

Your 100-mile-an-hour silliness, and cross-eyed glances.

Through two moves, two babies born, a Greyhound come and gone,

And always with Skippy—your friend and nemesis,

You charmed us with your jungle-cat strut and your statuesque beauty.

You were a princess. You had Mike wrapped around your little pink toe.

We almost lost you once before.

Mike slept on the floor of the closet

All night, his hand on you.

We nursed you through—

Gave you sub-q fluids and fed you with a syringe.

And you got better.

We had four more years with you, our little "Chickie."

Your bubble-gum toes and cotton-ball feet.

The way you laid “cute traps” we couldn’t resist.

Your rabbit-soft coat, meticulously licked.

Your demanding “feed me” mew.

Your lazy window-sill sunning, eyes half-closed.

Your rattley purr in bed at night.

I’m sorry we weren’t there for you, Jenga—

Our sweet, slinky, shiny girl—

To hold you through your peaceful passing.

A letter Merrit wrote to Jenga when we first told him
on Sunday that she was very sick.

A memorial that Kara, our friend in NC, painted under the chair where
she held Jenga for us until the very end. Thank you, Kara.