Ode to Simba, abecedarian sequence

All the while it was

becoming more obvious my

cat was seeking attention,

dividing my brain into pieces of puzzles.

Eagerly seeking to please, this sassy

feline, my big seventeen-pound

galloping boy, grabbing my forearms but never

hurting me, never scratching me.

Indeed, he knew how to play.

Jauntily, yet intelligently, so smart,

keeping his claws within his paws.

Leaping from behind the door to

make me chase him.

Not letting me catch up,

only outrunning and maneuvering.

Playing hide and seek, his personal

quirky game, showing off his

rowdy

speed and slides

toward me, or

under a table.

Vexed not in the least,

we played and laughed, and I wished I could

xerox him, keep him with me forever.

Yearly, no daily, I think of him - my

zenith arc to decades of human-feline companions.

** Simba came to us from an abused situation, already named Simba. He had to have 3 pins inserted into his broken paw. Once he understood we loved him, he gentled. I have never had a cat who played but didn't accidentally claw, and he never hooked me, even by accident. He KNEW! He was the smartest cat I've ever been with. The only cat with a profound sense of humor. He gentled all our visitors, especially people who disliked cats. He is missed deeply but never forgotten. He had a best friend we adopted at the same time, Miles, a brown tabby. They were best friends. When Miles died, Simba looked for him throughout the house every day FOR A YEAR, howling in dismay and grief. It was heartbreaking.

Vocal Challenge: a·be·ce·dar·i·an - arranged alphabetically.