An Ode to the Cat

An Ode to the Cat

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.
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

3 thoughts on “An Ode to the Cat

  1. 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.

  2. 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.

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