My name is Prr’tch-kkw’meow.

Humans call me Sir Meow.

I come from Meowtopia,

a quiet little hilltop at 22B Whisker Hill, East Sky District.

My mission was simple:

Conquer Earth.

(For noble reasons, of course — better naps, fresher tuna.)

But during a diplomatic trip to the Mediterranean

(for the World’s Best Feline Nap contest),

I met many Earth cats and dogs.

Some followed me for years.

They grew old, loyal as ever —

but once they were gone, their humans slowly forgot them.

I couldn’t accept that.

So, I stayed.

I gave up my plan to rule this planet,

and instead, began something better.

I gathered artists from across the Earth:

painters, carvers, stitchers, sculptors —

each one carrying their own memory of a beloved pet.

Together, we now help you hold on to the ones you love,

even after they’ve left pawprints in the stars.

……

Wait —

did someone open a can?

……

I’m back. That was excellent.

Anyway —

whether your fur baby is curled beside you

or already chasing butterflies beyond the sky,

I’m here to help you remember.

Sir Meow.

For the pawprints that should never fade.