(Or why social media can be your friend)

Just when I can barely hold your faces
in my fading brain, much less your voices,

I am reminded by the little device
that on this day, nine years ago,

you two lay on my sofa, you needing
the break more than Diego, who was

never one to pass up an available lap—
or hip, as the case apparently was—

on which to drape his goofy self.
As it happened, you both had some

years left, though not nearly as many
as I would have liked—as though

it were up to me. But you were fading
on that visit to your hometown, having

relocated two states away to a softer,
damper climate more to your liking.

I understood, though I missed you
mightily, as BFFs are wont to do.

Here’s what you need to know today:
You said there would be other friends,

other cats, and there were, there are,
but you, like Diego, were unique among

all creatures—quirky and funny—
him rather annoying, though you, never.

It is true that none of us is replaceable
in the hearts of those who adore us.

But then your photo pops up, and I grin
at the two of you who’ve dropped by

for a quick little “hiya!” before dashing
back to your place in the wherever,

reminded of your frequent appearances,
if I only remember to pause and look.

•••

(remembering Georgann and Diego)