Memories of Catti

Copyright © Isabella Dalzell 2019. All RIghts Reserved.

I stumble to the kitchen

as dawn washes clean the sky.

Inside my slippers,

a pink and grey ball of fluff

lies curled and snoozing.

She follows me wherever I go

and watches most attentively

Scratching at the sofa arms

she promenades along its back

as if she’s on a mission

then coils upon the cushions.

 

Disturbed by a visit

to the vet she made

herself a home nested in the vine

rebuked friendly overtures

braving stormy winds and rain

needing to know she’s mine.

I clamber up the pergola

put food in her dish

I call and coax, sigh and groan

takes six weeks to sweet-talk her home.

 

As she is ageing and

hauling up the stairs,

I place strategic props

to help her reach her favourite haunts

as senses fade, body frails,

grey fur turns tufted white.

But some things stay the same

our friendship is enduring

cradled in my arms

giving soothing Catti cuddles

snuggled by the fireside glow.