Ezra is my daughter's cat, but he came here for hospice care. My daughter and family sold their apartment before their house was ready and were living in various places, so Ezra came here.
He had a bad eye that needed to be removed; he had bad liver functions; he was fur and bones and wouldn't eat by himself. I syringe fed him for 2 months. He was lively, loved to look out the window and purred constantly, even during his feedings.
Today, he said enough. He had been vomiting the last two days and indicated that it was time.
Here are his poems:
Sweet Ezra has a journey he must make,
and all that we can do is say farewell.
We kiss his bony head and hide the ache
that seeps right down into our every cell.
His family isnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t with him at this time;
he came to be with Gramma now at last.
And Ezra isnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t really at his prime;
he hides in corners, only wants to fast.
His liver values arenâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t very good;
he could have something bad growing in there,
and forcing him to eat because we could
is not a thing that I think he could bear.
He is not all alone; heâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s in my arms;
his new wings lift him far from earthly harms.
Â[emoji]169[/emoji]2007MargyOhring
Prepare the room for tears, for they will flow;
prepare the room for grief, for it will rise;
prepare for Ezra for this boy must go
to fly above the world on to the skies.
The Rainbow Bridge already has his place;
itâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s right next to the window where heâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]ll see
the clouds, and rain drops make a line to trace
straight down as they meander to the sea.
Strong wings lift Ezra high over this land,
and strong wings carry him far far away;
and time has taken him; itâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s never planned;
for we wished with all our hearts that he could stay.
And he will take with him abundant love;
and he will watch and see us from above.
Â[emoji]169[/emoji]2007MargyOhring
He had a bad eye that needed to be removed; he had bad liver functions; he was fur and bones and wouldn't eat by himself. I syringe fed him for 2 months. He was lively, loved to look out the window and purred constantly, even during his feedings.
Today, he said enough. He had been vomiting the last two days and indicated that it was time.
Here are his poems:
Sweet Ezra has a journey he must make,
and all that we can do is say farewell.
We kiss his bony head and hide the ache
that seeps right down into our every cell.
His family isnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t with him at this time;
he came to be with Gramma now at last.
And Ezra isnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t really at his prime;
he hides in corners, only wants to fast.
His liver values arenâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t very good;
he could have something bad growing in there,
and forcing him to eat because we could
is not a thing that I think he could bear.
He is not all alone; heâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s in my arms;
his new wings lift him far from earthly harms.
Â[emoji]169[/emoji]2007MargyOhring
Prepare the room for tears, for they will flow;
prepare the room for grief, for it will rise;
prepare for Ezra for this boy must go
to fly above the world on to the skies.
The Rainbow Bridge already has his place;
itâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s right next to the window where heâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]ll see
the clouds, and rain drops make a line to trace
straight down as they meander to the sea.
Strong wings lift Ezra high over this land,
and strong wings carry him far far away;
and time has taken him; itâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s never planned;
for we wished with all our hearts that he could stay.
And he will take with him abundant love;
and he will watch and see us from above.
Â[emoji]169[/emoji]2007MargyOhring
