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Hi everyone, I have been writing for 5 years now- and it's very tiring!
(joke!). Anyway, this one is my family's favourite and is in memory of a
much loved and missed cat (dead).








Ginger

you couldn't talk
but we knew your thoughts
revealed by your tail,
a happy tail
or sometimes,
a sad tail.
thump thump it went
when we played
slump slumo slump
it went
when we stayed
working or
other household duties
but you so much wanted to play
and now you are
gone
there will never be another day
when I can hug
my Ginger

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Dear Stephanie ~

In truth, your poem touched me because I so love cats, and could easily imagine your Ginger as I read it. I've also referred to mine as having "happy tail"s.

~ Lizzy

Cats are amazing creatures, each with their own personality. I adore black jaguars/panthers, and I like black domestic cats which look just like miniature versions. I love to watch my cat stalking through the grass, just like the big cats on the wildlife programs on TV. Cats are also very aloof, self-sufficient creatures. I used to be like that, so I have an understanding with them. They do tell you a lot with their tails and their body language.

It is very sad when a much-loved pet dies. Thanks for your poem, Stephanie.

Good wishes,

Diane

Thank you for speaking to the emotional part of Stephanie's poem, Diane. Yes ~ such a difficult loss it is when we lose a beloved pet. I have felt like my heart is breaking and can never be repaired. I'm sorry that this very sad loss is what prompted your touching poem.

~ Lizzy

The Cat Who Sat


There was a cat who sat so still
Upon his master's windowsill
And watched for hours the skies outside
The way the children'd run and hide
The passing strangers, the passing friends
Each day'd begin as it would end
The sun would blossom into shiny ball
And night would come and hide it all
The gate would creak at his master's approach
And of all of these things, the cat loved that most
Each day would find the saucer of milk
The brushing of his black coat of fur soft as silk
The tickling of head and the belly's caress
And then he'd lay down for his long daily rest
All day the window showed him the world
As he lay there in his feline curl
And dream of pigeons and peacock feathers
And watch the rain and changing weather
Just waiting for the time to slip
Oft taking time to take a sip
Then to that window hurry back
And keep his schedule on it's track
Then night would come and with it's coming
The cat would start his gentle humming
Before the door and gate got through
He heard his master's step; he knew
Then up he sprang to Master's boot
To kiss his feet and climb his suit
Into those arms for a hello stare
And cherish the love that he found there
For many years the cat lived thus
He was a fat and happy puss
And life went on as lives they do
But lives, they have an ending, too
The day came when the cat's world changed
And all his schedule was rearranged
No saucer of milk was there in the morning
No tickle of ear, no nuzzle, no warning
He waited and waited but no master came
No ball came a rolling for their little game
No door cracked, no gate creaked
No footsteps on the floor
And the cat knew his master'd
Not come home anymore
But they tell me tales that I believe
Because, myself, I do perceive
That in that window, upon that sill
The cat who sat there
Is waiting there still.

by Voo
Nov 20, 2004 8 p.m

Hi Voo ~

That's an oh-so-true balance for showing this reality that cat lovers and their owners share. This is the side I've begun to consider more often in my own world of loving my cats. We never really know who will outlive the other. It's something that people really do need to think about ahead of time, and simply [regardless of their age] make concrete plans for the care of their pets, if something should happen to them. Since no one ever knows... and the pets so often suffer, ending up feeling doubly abandoned when the non-caring relatives drop them off at animal shelters, or worse yet, vets' offices or pounds, to be euthanized. Your poem shows how much many cats really do care about their owners. It's not just about the milk and food, as some think. I've had cats all my life, and know this well. Yours has a poignant ending. Stephanie's Ginger shows the communication that we learn and share with our pets.

~ Lizzy

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