It can be hard to explain exactly why I love him so much. But I don’t have to. I know you understand. Bo is the most affectionate cat I’ve ever had, so it would be hard not to adore him. He likes to climb up on my shoulder and let me hold him like a newborn. Yesterday I told him the story of Jezebel, and he listened attentively, especially to the part when I said,  I think I love you even more. As a youngster, Jezebel was known for boxing with me and walking across the room on her hind legs. This morning Bo, who is perilously knock-kneed, danced for about 10 seconds on his hinds. Tell me cats don’t know when we’re talking to them!

I put Jezzie down when I was living in Seattle and she was 19. The five years between Jezebel and Bo were lonely ones.

Jezebel

I’ve not replaced Jezebel,
who died in my arms
with a needle in her paw

years ago. On this dismal
wintry day, shag of snow
in the yard, I’m on my own.

As my last lover shut
the door, she warned,
You’ll die pet-less and unwed.

Now I live like a nun
who’s slept too many nights
in a habit of coarse cloth.