Four days after my beloved cat died.
My granddaughter came to my door.
Carrying a pink sweatshirt she said,
"Grandma, I'm sorry that Padre is dead".

"But look, I brought you a surprise".
"Nothing alive, I hope," is what I said.
Inside the bundle was a tiny face.
I felt my heart jump and begin to race.

A miniature Padre, a little kitten.
All black and large yellow eyes.
I thought we were much too old.
As I reached out for her, to hold.

I loved her the second I saw her.
And as she played, attacked and
Delighted us, racing across the floor.
How could we not loved her more.

She became the dearest thing ever.
She settled in, like she had always
Been here, and just returned home.
And never again would leave to roam.

They found her in a parking lot,
Trying to climb in another car.
But the lady put her out saying "no,
I have two cats, so down you go".

Lisa ran over and picked her up.
Pleaded with her mom to keep her,
But mom knew they had enough pets.
Maybe grandma would love her yet.

And grandma and grandpa did.
She brought laughter back in
To our hearts and our house.
Chasing her toys and little mouse.

Baby helps us tie our shoes.
She is fast as a real tornado.
Jumps in the refrigerator before,
We get a chance to close the door.

She keeps the old folks alert
She will be nowhere in sight
Then there she is under our feet.
Just too adorable and so sweet.

When she has worn herself out.
All is quiet, like before the storm.
But she'll be back after her nap.
On her favorite place, Grandpa's lap.