We are growing old together, this special lady and me.
She still, however, loves to cuddle up, lay her head on my shoulder, and enjoy the warmth of my body.
I stroke her hair . . . and think pleasant thoughts. How this fine, once elegant lady is moving into the final part of her life on this earth. She is not quite as elegant as she once was . . . not quite as nimble or quick on her feet, or as agile.
But, then, neither am I.
Her hair is turning a bit on the grey side. She still loves affection and whenever I sit down on the couch, she's right there next to me. I kinda think she likes me a little bit. In a matter of seconds, her head finds my shoulder and rests there.
In truth, we like each other. A lot.
We've had some good times together. We've played a bit . . . but mostly we just enjoy each other . . . we enjoy the warmth of each others body.
I fear she will leave this earth before I do . . . and I shall miss her.
It's been a good relationship. I shall hate to see her pass. But she's getting more and more frail with each passing day. Her hair is not as pretty as it once was. It doesn't have the same sheen it once did, not as dark . . . old age has set in and she'll soon be but a memory.
Oh, excuse me! Did you think I was talking about Evelyn?
Sorry. No. I was talking about Missy, our cat of about 18 years of age.