I love Roger the little fuzzy ball.
He doesn't seem to mind that I'm here at all.
He always seems to have a hatred for his wheel
And for some strange reason he has a particular squeal.
He always moves his bedding and all
But hates it when his food level falls.
He is picky when he eats his food
But it makes him have a very good mood.
I am so thankful to have this reminder of Roger and his quirks. It seems ironic that this particular poem came the day before we said goodbye to our old friend.