Sprite by Melissa K. Rogers / Lissa

My cat, Sprite, was around while I was growing up. I was about 4 or 5 when he was born. He was in the second litter of kittens, we only kept him. I remember playing with him all the time every day when I got home from school and every morning when I woke up he was laying at the end of the bed on my feet. It was a tragic death. He went out side the night before, we usually didn’t leave him out all night. My brother heard several dogs barking; we didn’t think anything of it. The next morning I was about to leave for school and my mom came in the house and said she found him. He was at the end of the street just lying there. A dog bit him on the neck. We buried him later that afternoon in front of a blue flowerbush. I have only one picture of him.
I saved a piece of the flowerbush.


I miss you,
Melissa K. Rogers