I chose you. You were a bit skinny, with a scuffed nose and a calm soul. Once you came to live with me, the calmness was gone. You tore through toilet paper rolls, climbed the walls, the refrigerator, rearranged the bathroom once a day, and dumped your food from the bowl to a mound on the floor regularly. You thought you owned the place. But at night, you formed yourself into a ball around my shoulder and happily stayed there until you were told you had to get up.
You moved across the country with me, where you matured into a sweet, loving boy. You got a puppy. We were alone a lot, but we got by together. You taught the puppy a thing or two. You were patient. You kissed him the day we brought him home. You tried to break into his cage. Hey there, new guy. Welcome. You taught us unconditional traits.
We moved again and you wedged yourself like a parrot in between your dad’s head and the back of the seat for half the ten-hour drive. You wanted to be sure you knew what was going on. You settled in quickly, but you started to show the first signs of illness. You got treated, and came home and climbed into my bed, put your head on the pillow and took a nap. You were fine for a year. You sat on the balcony, tried new foods, and broke into the neighbors apartment through the window a few times. You liked to lay in the sun with your arms up. I got sick once and you wormed your way into the covers and fell asleep next to my head. You read books with me, probably all of them. You were with me through every deployment.
Then we moved again, briefly, to Arizona. You hated it as much as me, and I loved you for it. You almost killed a bird, and then you ran to the front door like maybe you shouldn’t have done that. You stood at the door with the baby bird standing next to you. Both of you terrified.You were glad to get out of that place.
We moved across an ocean and I hated that you and your brothers were in the cargo of the plane. I thought about you all every single minute of that thirteen-hour flight. You started getting sick again more regularly, but you seemed to do great in between. When your brother left us, you were distraught, staring out the window for days. You clung to me wherever I went. You started getting sick more frequently, and we worried about you. All through the illness, people remarked on your kindness. In between, you were still happy and sweet and you still read. You also loved yoga DVD’s, just like your brother.
That turned out to be your last move. You made it two more years, but I thought I would have you in my life much longer. When you weren’t allowed to eat dry food anymore, I felt so bad I had to shoo you away from your brother’s food bowl every day. It was heart breaking. You started to learn that you couldn’t have it, so you eventually stopped trying. But every now and then you willfully snuck into it.You deserved it.
I chose you as a friend for your brother. I thought he needed you. But really, I needed you. And lucky me, you gave me what I needed. You held on until the very end, and in your final moments, you were even more beautiful than I could have imagined. Regal and majestic, like you knew something we didn’t. You waited to die until I turned my dissertation in. A true gentleman that none of us deserved, until the very end. Chris said if Jesus were an animal, you were him. We both wish we could be more like you. We’ll try.
Thank you, my white lion. Thank you for reading every book with me, for sitting with me while I ate when we were all alone. For spending your life with me. You were my best friend, my most loyal guide. I loved you, and you loved me even more. I am lost in this world without you. You were, and forever will be, the king of kings.
