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Sally
November rains brought to our basement door
From the woods some pleading, needy eyes
Staring from a fur mass, soaking wet.
Our catless home (about to be no more)
Welcomed her and tended to her cries.
By Providence we had ourselves a pet.
I don’t recall why Sally was her name.
It seemed to suit her. She could do no harm
For the poor thing had none of her claws.
No wonder she was starving. Who could blame
Her for putting on her feline charm.
We fell for her. Her tiny gentle paws
Moved daintily around our home by day.
By night she curled up at my feet and slept.
Our children came along; she was their friend.
We couldn’t know her age; she was a stray.
We never did feel sorry that we kept
The cat until her stoic bitter end.
She sat upon the arm of my son’s chair
And kept him company while he did math.
They didn’t speak a word but understood
Each other so it seemed. He was not spared
The price of love when our dear Sally passed—
The grave he dug returned her to the woods.
.
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Bob
Discovered on the highway by my son
Who couldn’t keep them as he was in school
The little kittens soon became our own.
We nurtured them until they were full grown.
However cats born wild have their own rules
And two took off and we had only one.
Now Bob was wise and stuck around our farm
He made peace with our dog and killed the mice.
He even brought to my back door a rat.
I know it was a gift of love. A cat
Does not about indecency think twice
(Or once!) He did not mean to cause alarm.
One winter it was colder than the norm.
Though his coat was thick my pity rose.
He ignored the house I made for him
And one day I just simply let him in.
He is a good farm cat, I feel I owe
Him wintertime that’s cozy, snug, and warm.
.
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The 5 AM Finale
My pussycat typhoonies
(Before their all day snoozies)
Get early morning zoomies
And chase around the roomies
Imaginary goonies.
They pass out rather woozy
As if they have been boozy.
My feline fluffy floofies
Are neither lush nor loonie,
But keep me from the gloomies,
The moodies, and the broodies.
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Gigi Ryan is a wife, mother, grandmother, and home educator. She lives in rural Tennessee.
Gigi, I enjoyed your cat poems immensely, although their short lifespan saddens us. You encouraged me to possibly attempt to publish some of my own poems about cats including one about a Chinchilla Persian that I purchased in a pet market near Red Square in Moscow. I can see how much you loved and cared for the strays that came to your farm.
Dear Roy,
Thank you for commenting. I do hope you publish your cat poems. What a great gift it would be to a cat lover. Each cat is as individual as a poem.
Gigi
Gigi,
If, in English, the word “dog” translates as “faithful friend,” the word “cat” must surely translate as “supreme ruler.” For owners, this inherent status renders “their majesties” as being either insufferable, immeasurably dull, endearingly amusing or “all of the above.” The latter observation is best enjoyed by those who understand and embrace the necessary obsequious deference expected of them as royal subjects.
Your lovely poems clearly show that you are one of these who know their proper place!
Thanks for giving us a glimpse into the essence of what “cathood” is all about!
Dear James,
Indeed I could give many more examples of knowing my place amount my favored felines. I am glad you enjoyed these tokens of my love for them.
Gigi
Personally, I love cats and so these poems speak to me; the ending of Sally is outstanding: “He was not spared
The price of love when our dear Sally passed—
The grave he dug returned her to the woods.”
Thanks.
Dear James,
Sally’s passing was 2 decades ago yet as vivid as ever in my mind. To know you appreciated that couplet means a lot.
Gigi
Sally and Bob were very lucky indeed to have discovered you and your family. Very moving, even for someone who is more of a dog person.
Dear Warren,
To have moved a dog lover is a pleasure. I have, over time, against my expectations, succumbed to the love of both.
Gigi
You speak so vividly of feline personalities and proclivities, reminding me of our late Boots and many of his predecessors. Thanks for all 3 of these.
Dear Julian,
You’re welcome. I used to think a cat was a cat, until I owned several over the years. I’ve had a change of heart since experiencing their “personalities and proclivities.”
Gigi
These are 3 totally delightful cat poems which I enjoyed reading this morning, thanks! They brought back memories of some of my own rescue cats, of which we have had so many.
Dear Yael,
I never planned to rescue cats… but they had other plans and ways it seems.
Gigi
I love all three. Cats rule!
Indeed they do, Cheryl!
Gigi
Every companion to a cat experiences that “price of love” you mention, Gigi. And our lifespan means it is likely to be paid several times. Our current feline is named “Zoe” for being a superlative example of “zoomies” at any time of day!
It is a good point that we will pay the “price of love” many times in our lifetimes.
Your Zoe sounds like a fun one. My cats are older and don’t zoom much past noon!
It’s difficult to write with emotion – unless you mean it. Your love of Sally and Bob are palpable.
As for your ‘pussycat typhoonies’, making up words that your reader knows their meanings from context is a gift – and you’ve got it.
Thanks for the reads, Gigi.