Looking out my window
on a cold February morning
Seeing the light play across the rooftops
Virgin white snow
not a print on it.

But, he's gone...
and all the snow in the world won't wipe that clean.

He's gone.
It was sudden and he didn't suffer
but
I miss him.

Today is Fat Tuesday,
a day of celebration in New Orleans
A day to feast before repenting for all our sins.

He loved all kinds of music, but especially jazz
His ears would go up whenever it was played
and it was played a lot around our house.

We called him our "Jazz Cat".

And now, he's gone.

I came home in the snow from the vets with the bad news
Hanging around my shoulder like a scarf.
My older cat came right up to my face and put his cheek near mine.
"Where's Jay?," he asked.
What ever am I going to tell him?