Every three days, without fail,
I gathered the hay, the spray, the pads, the love.
A ritual of care, quiet and pure,
a clean house for you, permanently renewed.
I remember our dance, your eternal delight,
your curious eyes and whiskers bright.
You’d circle and nudge as I swept the floor,
our gentle chaos, our love once more.
And though you grew old, the rhythm stayed true,
perfected through time, just me and you.
Each careful motion, each shared glance,
our bond was written within the dance.
My hands learned the rhythm,
the sound of rustling straw,
the scent of fresh beginnings
woven into every corner of your world.
Every three days, but nevermore.
The bin bag rests, the hay lies still,
touched by the echo of you.
For no small paws will test the floor,
no gentle nose will search for more.
The final clean forever stands,
your home now spotless, peaceful, free.
I keep the rhythm in my heart instead,
and every third day, I remember thee.
For Spirit and Sienna, my eternal loves.
Your home is clean, your souls are free.
May your spirits forever rest in peace and play in light.
by J_rd_nRD