My cat, old
shrivelled, shrunken,
tufty furred.
I stroke,
a backbone sharp and knobby
as a tooth-ed comb.
Dry rattle-leafed one
with slight hips
wishbone thin,
you haunt me now,
holding my gaze.
Yours is a hunger no food
satisfies -
you pace.
Please
tell me when it’s time
or gently go . . . .
Gemma says she wants you all to know that she caught a shrew about three months ago - and she is planning to catch another one soon! But thay do taste nasty! Memo to shrews - it's no good as a deterrent to getting caught if you taste nasty - I can see where you're coming from but somewhere there is a fault in your logic!
Gemma says she isn't dead yet! In fact she seems quite bright this morning - must be all the kind thoughts floating around, courtesy of you lovely WOL lot! xx
Well done Ann. The pace and structure do reflect well your sadness, your affection and the reflective mood. There seems to be quite a bit about death on WOL this month
Very moving, Ann. So sad when our pets get old. Give her a cuddle from me. xx
<Deleted User> (7212)
Sat 25th Sep 2010 20:46
very touching Ann. I wonder if you have to be a cat-person to understand this one fully ?
a cat of ours died last year at 18 & he'd never been very affectionate, but in the last few days - when I even had to hold him up to get a drink of water - he'd cuddle up & look straight into my eyes, like he was trying to talk. Corny, I know, but it was as if he knew something was imminent. X
Thanks James - and it is really nice to know that my punctuation was noticed - I did think about it! My cat is 20 and we are nearing that time I fear. But she still purrs when I stroke her. And we've been through a lot! And . . I KNOW she loves me!
Very effective - and economically - use of language, and well punctuated too. It's difficult when pets get to a certain age...
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Greg Freeman
Mon 27th Sep 2010 10:26
I can really relate to this, Ann, particularly the line "a backbone sharp and knobbly". Our cat left us last year at the age of 19. She'd just had enough after three years of going to the vet's, went down the garden one day towards the woods, and never came back. But long live Gemma!