I miss the way your tail would pop straight up as soon as I spoke to you when you were walking down the passage or into a room.
I miss the way your nails would click on the tile floor as you walked.
I miss that funny little skipping jump you did in the morning when it was time to go down to breakfast.
I miss the way you always looked me right in the eye when you came towards me.
I miss how you never just lay still if I stroked and cuddled you.
I miss the way you purred and kneaded me when you came to snuggle with me on the bed.
I miss how you would sit on the edge of the bath and watch me bath or shower, sniffing the bubbles or watching my toes under the water.
I miss the way you rolled around all over the furniture when I crooned and sang to you.
I miss the way you slept on my bed, on your back with your feet in the air.
I miss how you would look at me and meow without a sound.
I miss the way you bounded up the stairs ahead of me when you thought I was going to my bedroom.
I miss how you were always where I was, on the bed with me, in the kitchen, on the couch.
I miss the warm solidity of your body under my hands.
I miss how you opened doors to get to me.
I miss you so much my sweet Taxi. My gentle giant. I miss you so very much.