rescued while trying to join a colony of cats in detroit
cared for by a foster family
looking for a place to call home
i feel lucky she landed in mine
shy and sweet and young
not quite sure what life will be like here
she came out from her hiding place
long enough for us to each check on the other
i see her natural fancy costume
of black ears and tail
snow white body
she’s now olive’s new sister
and will be called rose
which makes her *rose kennedy
*(the cat, not to be confused with the political dynasty’s family matriarch who shared the same moniker)
“a kitten is, in the animal world, what a rosebud is in the garden.”
no, she has not gone missing
but keeping santa’s promise
to sweet kitty, olive –
find her a sweet companion.
with virus, time home, holidays
sweet little kitties are hard to find
but i’m on the case
ready for the rescue
i see her on the horizon
have one very close
to coming home.
“there are no ordinary cats.”
photo credit: reed.edu
he is all in.
as the family enjoys their breakfast
one of the grand cats
decides to have his.
jumps on the counter, straddles the cake,
eats fresh whipped cream to his heart’s content.
until he is outed.
“whipped cream can remind you why it’s good to be alive.”
– deb caletti
what impeccable timing
as soon as i had finished working on puzzles
on my favorite old table
putting pen to my journal instead
olive also changed hobbies
from puzzling to journaling
the same time and place
“the best time to begin keeping a journal is whenever you decide to.”
“i’ve decided that the best time is now.
the puzzles are gone, there are no open spaces in a puzzle to fill in by laying on them with my body,
no pieces to quietly and slowly push off the table with my paw, and no frame to snag and break apart with my claw.
perfect time to begin a journal.”
offered his cat
a chance to experience
virtual reality firsthand.
i really, really wonder what she thought.
“books are the original virtual reality.”
― marushia dark.
glenn frey the rocker, (r.i.p.) and the eagles returning for one of many expected encores.
glenn frey the cat has returned for a very unexpected encore.
his doctor gave him a last minute reprieve
offered him another chance
with new protocols and fingers crossed.
it may not last long
he’s not in pain
and is purring again
so we’ll take it one encore at a time.
he and i were both equally surprised
olive took it all in stride.
glenn still has no idea how big he really is
the lumbering giant
thinks he’s a kitten
knocking over everything in his way
he’s lived at least 3 lives since i’ve known him
that means 6ish still to go
and he’s still not ready to leave the stage for good, just yet.
“the encore is the short piece after the program has finished,
where the performer brings out something the audience doesn’t expect.”
we spent our last day together
glenn frey the cat, not the rocker
olive the cat, not the oil
glenn has taken a turn for the worse
and is quickly slowing down
resting in his favorite place
with olive refusing to leave his side
the three of us
sit in the quiet
looking out at the signs
of the seasons changing
taking in the breezes.
i think back to his multiple rescues
his funny, crazy ways
his very loud voice
how i often spelled his name wrong
how he acted tough at first
but was really such a gentle giant
how he tried to camouflage himself in the vines and flowers
how he welcomed another rescue, tiny olive
into our little family.
in the morning
there will be
just two of us left
when we return to this room
as we say farewell
to our sweet friend, glenn frey.
even the flowers are sad.
olive and glenn frey
insist on helping me
with the process of
sorting paperwork and doing bills.
they have been training for years
and clearly feel they are financial wizards.
“cats can work out mathematically
the exact place to sit that will cause most inconvenience.”
something tells me that
perhaps the wrong cat
drank the rescue remedy calming drops
from the water bowl.
one is facedown in a bowl of seashells
while the other, (my intended target)
is busy outside
standing up on two feet
looking in at me through the window
and meowing loudly.
“mixing one’s wines may be a mistake, but old and new wisdom mix admirably.”
one of my daughter’s long-legged black cats
who i collectively refer to as ‘the nathans,’
enjoying a swing.
as of this posting,
he has never expressed a desire to be a dancer.
“just because you have long legs doesn’t mean you’ll be happy as a rockette.”
– nicholas lore