Munchies

Munchies Punchies, the boss of the house, you knew how to let our other cats know not to cross you. You were the eldest, only 8 years old. In contrast, you were also the most ladylike feline. Your tail would always wrap around your white soft paws, in the gentlest manner. Your purrs were the loudest and you would never meow to get something. You'd jump on us in bed, and we'd welcome the pain as your paws would sink into our chests and you'd push our phones away from our hands with your head and we'd would simply comply. We could not do anything else, as your wise wide eyes would stare at us and tell us exactly what you needed. You loved to play, chasing the red dot or anything under a rug, a blanket or a play mat. Mostly an indoor cat, you would have days when you would simply sit outside and look at the sky. Munchies, you brought us the most gifts - you'd bring us the same toy, over and over again, crying for us, letting us know you needed attention or play. We'd give anything to spend more time with you, but you had to go, our sweetest cat, as cancer would not let you breathe.