I miss the way your tiny feet sound like those of a million elephants when you decide, for reasons unknown to us mere humans, to tear laps across the first floor.

I miss the way you scratch at the door in the middle of the night because you’re lonely and you want to play or be pet.

I miss your meow and purr and mew.

I miss the way you fold your paws underneath your fluffy body to transform into a Cat Loaf.

I miss the way you hiss at the birds and the cats outside.

I miss the way you curl up on my lap and make me lose all feeling in my legs, because oh no, I can’t move and disturb my precious kitty. She’s sleeping.

I miss the way you lurk on the back of the couch, watching me eat, begging for scraps of food, swishing your tail intently.

I miss your wide, floodlight eyes, yellow-green like little moons.

I miss the feeling of your fur against my cheek, warm and soft.

I don’t miss the way you hack up hairballs so inconsiderately on the carpet rather than the linoleum. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.

I don’t miss the way you wake me up in the early mornings of the weekends, scratching at the door.

I don't miss the way you claw into my thighs before you settle down on my lap.

I don’t miss the way you spill kitty litter all over my bathroom floor, or how you spill cat food all over the kitchen floor.

I don’t miss the way you nip at ankles or ears when you feel ignored.

You must feel more ignored now, abandoned even.

I promise I haven’t forgotten you. I could never forget you.

I miss you every day.

I miss you every night.

I’ll see you again soon, my fluffy loaf. I’m coming back to you; I’m coming home.