Toppled from his throne by a vile, hairless new animal,
He pings around the edges of the reconstituted nucleus.
But each time he sidles near, seeking an available lap,
He finds himself rebuffed – there is no vacancy.
Growing gaunt with hunger for affection, he waits
For the interloper’s stranglehold on his family’s attention
To begin to decay: someday, he is sure,
They will love him again.