The mommy’s crying in the corner of the couch next to her computer. I guess what her and the daddy were talking about is true. You’re not coming back.

It’s warm inside this box. I’m glad they haven’t taken me downstairs in the cold, damp basement. It was neat of you to try to pull me out and play with me the other night. I heard your cries and I wanted to snuggle.

I liked your warmth. It was cold on the floor until you came to sit on me. Sharing your snacks and picking on your little sister were a blast. There’s still some frayed pieces of fur that I haven’t lost. They remind me of the time you thought I was your ball or your food or the daddy’s sock. That was funny when you took it from him and came to hide it inside of me. He was so mad.

The other kitten, your little sister, doesn’t pay much attention to me. Maybe I can scoot myself up high in this box and get the mommy or the daddy to show me off to her.

So long, my friend. I’m miss your black fur and prickly teeth. You were sweet and fun.

RIP Jerri the kitten, March 2011 to January 23, 2012

Write on Edge: RemembeREDDo objects have a memory? Does a rocking chair hold the essence of the snuggles it has witnessed? Does a pottery mug remember the comforting warmth it offered a struggling soul?

The dictionary defines personification as “the attribution of a personal nature or human characteristics to something nonhuman, or the representation of an abstract quality in human form.”

This week, tell a piece of your story from the point of view of an object who bore witness.

Today’s song is kind of weird and I doubt even my own family members will understand the choice. I wanted to go with something that coincided with Jerri the kitten’s short life. Neon Trees’ Animal was one of the biggest pop songs of 2011. It played a couple of times she was in the car going to the vet to be looked over. For me, it’s how I’ll remember her.