For how nice the sentiment of the poem beside this photo, when it came to Pounce, there's certain variations I must stress. First, no one really "took care" of Pounce, instead he took care of everyone else! Unless you knew Pounce personally, you could never be able to grasp the diversity that made up this cat's personality. He was by no means an "ordinary" cat!

Not only was he unusual in the markings of his lush coat, but he had a way about him that made even though with reservations about cats want to take him home. Comments such as "If I were to get a cat, I would want one just like Pounce," or "I think I'll just slip him in my suitcase when I get ready to go home" were the norm around Pounce. People came over and looked forward to "Pounce kisses." He licked so many faces, many termed him "the dog in a cat's body." He "nursed" foster kittens by letting them suckle his belly fur while he bathed each and every one of them. Two, Sammy and Shadow, brothers from a litter, stayed, and always looked at Pounce as their "mother." Sammy slept at night with his face buried in Pounce's fur. When our cat, Sylvester developed allergies that grossly affected his ears, Pounce stepped in and did what no medicine could... He cleaned Sylvester's ears and kept them always from becoming itchy or scabbing up as they had before. He bathed the dog's faces every day to be sure they always looked their best.

And sensitive! He mourned, he felt, and he loved! When my mother's Siberian Husky, Orion was alive, he and Pounce would sit together in the kitchen every morning and get a half slice of cheese as a treat. When Orion grew old and would sleep late, Pounce would go and wake him, reminding him it was cheese time. And when Orion passed away, Pounce mourned for over a year. He refused to eat cheese for a long, long while until he was ready to stop grieving.

Sometimes I thought Pounce understood words spoken, and I know he understood every emotion felt. When I was emotionally distraught, Pounce would stay with me, he would put a paw on my leg, he would lick my tears away! He would sleep beside me until he knew I was alright!

Perhaps I am shallow, but no, I don't understand! Who will keep Sylvester's ears from itching and suffering the result of his allergies? Sammy still waits for his "mother" to come home so he can sleep curled against him; safe, in his mind, as long as Pounce is there. Pounce always helped us through our mourning, but now I wonder... who will lick our faces and put a paw on our laps, helping us in the most unique way through our grief?

This poem was adapted from "I'll Lend You A Child" by Edgar Guest.