Even though I don’t miss sweeping up cat litter and vacuuming cat fur, I am occasionally disappointed to not have anyone waiting for me when I come home.
Bye, bye cat.
The cat flew to Alaska a little over a week ago to be reunited with Noel’s mom. Here is a poem I composed in her memory:
left with
a bag of Meow Mix
sea blend and a container of cat litter,
our landlord doesn’t know that her one month stay has turned into four
When my mother-in-law calls she talks to the cat, but never talks to me
Furina kicks cat sand all over the bathroom, curls up on the clothes I carelessly
leave on the floor, licks the dirty dishes, sunbathes on my pillow, attacks the laces
of my shoes, scratches the couch, jumps on my lap when I’m eating dinner
nuzzles my pen when I’m trying to write, lays on my freshly folded
laundry, hides in my kitchen cupboards, and mats my life with fur
Curses rise to my lips when I get out of the shower and
my towel falls clumsily into her litter box
Still, I pick her up
When I come home after a long day
Soothed by her purrs and the softness of her fur, I am liable to forgive
Oh my. I laughed so hard. But it brought tears to my eyes when you said I talked to her and not you. If it wasn’t 1 a.m. I’d call you right now. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for Kitty and ALL OF US this past two years. I love you.
I was worried my poem might offend you, it just sounded so good poetically. I know you love me and thanks for not calling at 1 a.m.
Ha ha! I just read this. What a sweet little ode to Ferina.