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CAT POET'S CORNER

Princess Sofieer

Six weeks old - a bundle of fluff;
Playful and sweet, doing kittens’ cute stuff.
Over sixteen years since she came to me,
And a family member she came to be.
With her soft, tabby fur and outlined eyes,
Her company became a soothing prize.
She did funny things, was sometimes a brat.
She licked and purred, or hissed and spat.
Through all those years we loved her dearly,
Through claws in legs and slashed limbs (nearly)!
My son may have grabbed her a little rough
But she wasn’t timid; could be wild and tough.
When he’d rough her up and scrunch her head
And she’d say "get lost", and go to bed.
If she didn’t like you, then you’d know;
Could claw and spit; tell you where to go.
But when she liked you you’d know as well;
She’d purr and lick and say "you’re swell".
A loving friendship grew with Sofe dear.
She ruled our home, did "Queen Sofieer".
Sometimes she’d try to catch a bird,
But her "sneaking up" was always heard.
It would fly away in shocked relief,
Then Sofe would laugh and feed on beef.

Excuse me for writing in past tense,
But I soon must make a decision immense.
Sofe’s now very old and not very well.
Her painful tumor’s began to swell.
I must choose pain or death for my friend.
A tough choice, ‘though her life’s near its end;
An end so close and her passing so near:
A difficult choice causing many a tear........
Yet I think we’ll adopt a new kitten next year.

Footnote: Sofie died in her sleep in the early hours of 24/12/1991, aged 17 years,
and was buried in our back yard. Later that day someone, who didn't even know we
had a cat, arrived with a six week old kitten we named Maggie. It turned out they are
as different as chalk and cheese. Maggie has recently had her 11th birthday.

Copyright © Anne Leith
December 17, 1991

Read Anne's other poem: How to Talk with the Catty Poos

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