What I Stole from Mary

Dark eyes watch me

As I slowly implode.

Tears falling,

I pull you into my arms.

My guardian.

I stroke your damp fur

As tears fall.

Two years older,

You haven't aged a day.

Your white fur is just graying

And you're shrinking in my hands.

They say you were my Easter present

And I greeted you

With my slobber all over your ear

And your paws in my mouth.

They say I loved you,

But I can tell you weren't my favorite.

Phil lost his pinky when I was six

And hadn't quite outgrown

Chewing on things when I got bored

But I was too little to chew gum.

Alexandria used to have spaghetti stains

From where I tried to feed her

And kept missing her mouth.

Snowy's brown fur was matted

From when I tried to wash it

With real shampoo

But knew not to get her wet.

But you are still perfect.

Still white.

Still have your eyes.

And still watching my stupidity.

I awake with you in my arms,

The scratches no longer bleeding

And my inner voice no longer

Patronizing and taunting me.

I gently stroke your fur,

Wiping my drool from your head.

Just like my parents probably did

When I first got you.

Sixteen years later,

You're still my favorite

Perfect

Little

Guy.