Cats

If anything I prefer dogs over cats. Having said that, I wouldn’t be cruel or leave them out. So what do you do with a stray???

feeding time…. author’s own

We always had dogs, growing up, in our our house. Most of them your usual mongrel or mixed breed, whichever you prefer to call them. We loved them and they loved us.

When my eldest girl was 8 years old I promised her I would get her a dog. We were moving to Ireland and I intended to be home more, taking a part time job, instead of working full time. This would be a factor in getting a dog, so it wouldn’t be on its own all day.

We go a lovely mixed breed dog and called her Sally. Half sheep dog half collie and she looked like an old English Sheep dog. She was such a loyal and friendly dog and we had her for 10 years. It was pure heart break when she died. So much so I swore I would never get another.

People often say that after drinking too much and getting so drunk. They swear they will never touch the drink again. Like the drunk, with his self promised promises, I did indeed relent and get another dog a few years after Sally died.

This time it was at the begging of my other children (twins) who at the time were 14. We got a little miniature Yorkshire terrier and called her Indiana. She was cute. Not very smart, but cute and she was loved. Sadly, she came to a very sad end and was hit by a car after getting out of the drive. It was torture and we were all devastated…. again

‘Never again’ I said, and I meant it. It is too heartbreaking.

Again, I relented. A year or so after Indiana died, my eldest asked me if I would take a little west highland terrier, who would face certain death if I didn’t….. Well that isn’t blackmail….. much!

I took the said little Westie, Jack, and he too became part of the family and stole our hearts. He was 6 months old when we got him, but by the time he was 12, he was quite ill and deteriorated very quickly. We prepared ourselves to be heartbroken again. Indeed, we were. That was 15 months ago now, and I can categorically say, I will not have another dog. It is too too sad knowing, that they will pass before you and I don’t want to set myself up again for heartache. However, watch this space!

During the years of the dogs we have also been frequented by stray cats…. It started with the farmer at the bottom of our garden. He had cats, but they would wander down to us and of course, we began to feed them as they always seemed hungry and anyway, they are good to keep the mice and rats away.

After the farmer died the cats were taken by the WSPCA to be re-homed. However the odd stray would still come and hang around our house. As we live in the Country I would feed them as they are a good deterrent for the mice and rats.

Rusty has been coming to us now for a few years. We feed him daily and tend to his medical needs when he has gotten into a scrape, but he is feral and goes away after feeding, grateful for his daily nosh. Sometimes he hangs about in the yard, but he is a bit of a loner.

About 6 months ago or so, a black cat appeared. Quite a friendly cat with a lovely shiny coat. I advertised on all the local platforms trying to find its owner but to no avail. he would come, around the same time as Rusty and then off he would trot, back down the drive and to, well I am guessing, his own home.

Cats are like that aren’t they, they like to wander off.

Anyway, not only was he coming ‘at feeding time’, he would now push rusty out of the way and start eating his food. Well, I couldn’t have that, so reluctantly, I would also put a plate out for him. I couldn’t let him watch on, and not give him anything.

Black cat, affectionately named Blacky, how original, is cheeky though and if we leave open a window, will climb in and lay up on a bed or a sofa like he is King of the hill. What a cheek!

Rusty, wouldn’t have the same amount of cheek or nerve, he is far more ‘reserved’ and not so presumptuous or impertinent as Blacky.

This morning, I went to go out the door to feed them. Both of them on the step, waiting and the black cat, actually had the nerve to slap poor old rusty in the face to get him out of the way, so he could get the lion’s share. I was utterly gobsmacked!

Because of this I wrote a little ditty….. I hope you enjoy it!

Cats

I feed these cats

They are not my cats

But aside from that, which is a fact

I feed these cats

I don’t like cats

But they are good scare the rats

So I feed the cats

So they can do that

1st came the ginger one

Feral, shy, coy

I’m only grateful, that he is a boy

Takes his food then off he goes

To where I wonder,

Nobody knows

Then came blacky

He is black

He is a more forward cat

He is not at all shy, not one little bit

In fact, I would say, he is a cheeky little git

He pushes in first when I open the door

Knocks rusty out the way

Hoping he will get more

He is quite a greedy black cat

I cannot say much more than that

Soon as he’s fed off he goes, strutting

Wagging his tail, and swaging his but

In all the style like a cat walk model

Unlike rusty with his old man waddle

Sits on the bench like he is the boss

Licking his fur and shakes off the dross

Sits all day, til he gets a more peckish

And scratches at the door like it’s some sort of fetish

I looked out once and guess what I saw

Roland rat scurrying on all fours

Blacky the cat, didn’t even blink an eye

Let old Roland just strut on by

Am I too soft or feeding these too much

Cos I’m sure it’s nature they should hunt their lunch

Off he goes not even a hissing sermon

Coming from the cat to this passing vermin

Rusty plods back late in the evening

Head hung low, as if he’s been grieving

Jumps up on the window sill

Patiently waiting for me to give in

Black cat though has no such reserve

Can’t even open a window, cos in he will swerve

He has no shame nor decent good manners

I do protest and I don’t mean with banners

I chase him out like a cat and mouse game

I’m sure he’s laughing cos he has no shame

He’s quite cunning that little black cat

But he won’t best me you can be sure of that

Rusty comes like a big drowned rat

When the heavens open, but I let this cat

Come in side and eat his grub

He seems so grateful and I give him a rub

Mr black cat I swear has a home

He’s Just so greedy he comes here to roam

Costing me a fortune, cos I couldn’t leave him out

When I’m buying all the cat food to share it about.

But when it’s raining I don’t let him in

Now it’s my time with a big Cheshire grin

I watch him dash back out of the drive

Properly sulking and goes home to hide

He’s not one bit feral, shy or coy

He’s just cunning this little boy

Edging his bets to get all he can

That’s when I know, that animal is like man

Blacky with his full tummy, now he is swaggering off….. authors own pic.

ABRACADABRA

when relationships stand the test of time, for better or for worse. when love is tinged with sadness

I want to reminisce

Feel the warmth of his kiss 

His hand so tender

I give in and surrender

So two became one

But the time is long gone

And the hands are now feeble

And not quite so agreeable

Shaking and unstable

Barely engages, he isn’t able

It wasn’t that long ago

And both of us know

That it was only fleeting

Time, since our first meeting

Some 50 years since past

Some said it wouldn’t last

What did they all know

Old together, we did grow

Never much apart

all locked away in our hearts

The memories of our journey

But how, I am still yearning

To feel the warmth of his kiss

Gently on my lips

And snuggle by his side

A new and happy bride

And do it all again

Just take away the pain

A magic wish would be 

That he would recognise me

An abracadabra moment

Find the missing component

One to see him free

To bring warm and tender kisses to me

Randoms

Image and perceptions lead to opinions, judgements, if you will. Expression comes in many forms, but does how we interpret it say more about us ?

image – authors own hand painted mannequin. she feels your eyes on her and is watching you!

Fait Accompli

The Raven sweeps, though soaring high

And the spider creeps to snare the fly

To catch their prey they bide their time

Night or day they do not mind

The heron waits and sits it out

The pig berates and snorts its snout

But what is it that man must do

To catch the girl, he needs a clue

Not just to take for the night

But always and forever, to be his wife

The charm and beauty are only fleeting

Loyalty and duty are more beseeching

No cunning or tricks up his sleeve

Eyes will flicker as she leaves

Kindness, love, an enquiring mind

The girl will be happy with this kind of find

Considerate, funny and willing to work

When things get rough and make her irk

Give and take, stand close, stand back

Soon you’ll see it and get the knack

Up for the challenge, you can but try

Soon she’ll suss if you’re the guy

Do not assume a fait accompli

You must earn her trust or she’ll set you free

imagae authors own hand painted mannequin

First perceptions when you see this image… what comes to mind in the first instance from the outside world. Then in this conflicting world of conflicting views and the conflicting self expressing himself, one will make a judgement.

Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com

My Son John

Never mind the Buzzcocks, The Clash or Johnny Rotten

We can’t go there and show up, like someone’s been forgotten

With a head that’s shaved down to the skin

A coat of leather stuck with pins

Doing the pogo to a load of noise

No, not mine, not one of my boys

We are upstanding and tell the truth

You cannot trust those other youths

Stiff little Fingers, Slaughter and the Dogs

Doing drugs and on the rob

I’ve seen them all on the TV

No, not my son, no, not he

He is a good boy, my son John

He just looks different with his fashion on

He wouldn’t do what the bad boys do

I think I know him better than you

I think I know him better than you

We can’t come visit cos he looks a mess

His hair all gone and the state of his ‘dress’

He looks like a thug, but he’s really not

He’s just going through a phase and is quick to trot

He wouldn’t do drugs or jump on cars

My son John is going to go far

It’s not his spliff, it’s not his style

He’s a good boy John with a lovely smile

I saw all the thugs on the six o clock news

But my son John was with his muse

Down at the annexe, just holding hands

Not setting on fire those clapped out vans

I know you think, cos he’s a punk rocker

He really must be that destructive fucker

He’s not an angel, don’t get me wrong

But he is a good boy, my son John….

Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com

Subservient girl…

It pleases him to kiss his brow

To wander there, and do it now

Ask no questions, be satisfied

Sugar coat kisses can’t be denied

A gift from him, you should be pleased!

Thankful indeed, down on your knees

Subservient girl, do not ask why

He’s clipped your wings, you cannot fly

Your muted words scream in your head

But in you go, to his bed

It pleases him and you should know

There is no place for you to go

Subservient girl, perform your duty

Be thankful for your obvious beauty

Desiring men gripped by you

No taming here of the shrew

And so it was, she bent on her knees

She’d bide her time, for she had the keys

To break away and betray

All that she had become today

Her muted words spoke loud and clear

To plot and scheme to get out of here

Domineering men underestimate

The mind of the girl was like steel plates

They could not break or kill her spirit

Not for a second, not for a minute

I am strong and worthy too

I am more than subservient for you

She spoke her mantra over and again

Inside her head where she must lay

The key to freedom was deep inside

But her time, she must bide

She must use her whit to outsmart

Devise a plan and free her heart

She’ll dance and sing and smile and bow

Let them think they are winning now

But soon the day will come to rue

When subservient girl will wear a new shoe

One that fits, that’s fair and wise

Where she walks tall with her head held high….

Jungle Gym

what do children do. They play, they explore, they have fun. What do they see, in the world and the adults around them… Keep learning to play….

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Build me a frame, I want to swing and wrap and roll round everything

Climbing, hanging, upside down

Brings a smile, never a frown

Blood will rush to my head. My space my time alone instead

Of doing what others think I should

If only I could you know I would

Jungle Gym you were my saviour, kept me from the bad behaviour

My exciting rush, my perfect hit

I wish just now that I could sit, and touch the bars cold and round

Lift myself up off the ground

Freedom in the random spins, ligaments stretch, my time begins

Each little muscle, each tiny cell, blasts away from certain hell

Oh build me a frame I want to swing

Prepare that stage and let me in

Hanging on the bus stop pole, upside down, who said it was bold

Passers-by just walk on by, look so unhappy, I want to cry

When I grow up I won’t be down

Ill hang on the frame, have a smile, not a frown

Adult life seems so intense, give me a pole or a wooden fence

I find my strength in navigating, not sitting down, procrastinating

Up I’ll go and climb that frame and hang about not play the game

The twists and turns the ups and downs, spinning tops and broken crowns

Give me strength to play around, and find the way down on the ground

Oh build me a frame I want to swing and wrap and roll round everything

The Heavens

Almost a year now and our vocabulary, our way of life and our outlook changed. From lock down, social distancing and restrictions to working together, front line workers and better days ahead, we are all in this together, so lets help each other get out of it…..

I think this has been a particularly difficult lock down, this third one. I know for me it has been, and most people I speak to tell me the same. Is it because it has been during the winter, at the beginning of the new year, when we all hoped upon hope, that by then, we would be through the worst of it? Instead we were only at the beginning of the worst of it and so it has laboured on and we have had to sit it out. The dark wet days haven’t helped. The feeling of restraint have at times been suffocating, but I tell myself, it is all we have to do, sit it out, in the comfort of our own homes. For me, it is a comfortable home and I consider myself very lucky in that fact. Others, however, do not have such a comfortable or even safe home to sit it out in. So for them it is even worse. Then there are the front line workers, particularly the doctors, nurses and all hospital and care staff. I think of them, when I feel that I am being hard done by. They have to venture out, since the beginning of this pandemic, almost a year ago, and do their ‘job’. What about how they must feel. Leaving home, their children and families, to work with an unknown entity, a dangerous and often deadly virus. Their feeling of angst and worry, fear and frustration must be magnified on a daily basis, their mental health as well as their physical health must be taking a battering, we know, it is taking a battering, and so, we must sit it out and do our bit, to help them. To aid them, by not breaking ‘the rules’.

Yes, it feels like our wings have been clipped and the sense of isolation is huge. Feelings and emotions with regards to gatherings are palpable. Close relatives dying and we cannot attend funerals, pay our respects and be united in grief with loved ones. Weddings and other celebrations, curtailed, very intimate numbers or non existent. The world we live in at the moment. But that it all it needs to be, a moment in time, a snapshot of a period in our lives, that we will over come, with cooperation and with science, in the form of hygiene, distancing and vaccinations.

Many people have adapted well and taken up new hobbies, skills and even businesses. I myself, set up a card making business during the first lock down. It gave me something to do. (insta@taylormadecardcreations, Facebook: Caroline’s Card creations). To marry my photos and my words together to make something positive and to send a positive message to a loved one during a very negative time. This kept me and my mind occupied and gave me a sense of purpose in my day.

As a people we are resilient and we have to remember that. We have to hold on to the knowledge that things will get better and this, is only temporary, that if we all work together, we will of course, reap the benefits, together.

I attach a poem I wrote a few weeks ago, after a close relative passed away, but I feel that not just in death do we feel the darkness and the mist, we feel and have felt it it often during these times of lock down. As we learn that ‘life goes on’ after the death of a friend or loved one, we too must know that life will go on, as it did, before the pandemic, it will just be a matter of time.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

I watched the birds on the treetops

Surveying all around

What are they looking for,

Something on the ground?

High up in the heavens

Just taking it all in

Is it quiet and peaceful up there

Or is that felt within?

The mist is descending

Like a blanket it falls

I can barely see in front of me

I just slow to a crawl

No more can I see you

As the trees go out of sight

All  is shrouded in darkness

As you turned out the light

So you may soar even higher

Far above the soft white clouds

And I’ll look up to the heavens

And hope that you’ll look down.

The Heavens

love and loss is the sharpest pain, and can be difficult to navigate a way out….

I watched the birds on the treetops

Surveying all around

What are they looking for,

Something on the ground?

High up in the heavens

Just taking it all in

Is it quiet and peaceful up there

Or is that felt within?

The mist is descending

Like a blanket it falls

I can barely see in front of me

I just slow to a crawl

No more can I see you

As the trees go out of sight

All  is shrouded in darkness

As you turned out the light

So you may soar even higher

Far above the soft white clouds

And I’ll look up to the heavens

And hope that you’ll look down.

No Man’s Land

A thought, a feeling, a place, an ideal or a mixture of all… there’s no place like home, Dorothy said….

Where is home?

Where I lay my hat?

Where the heart is?

A feeling or a place

What if I have more than one hat?

What is no man’s land?

Half belonging

Half not

It’s where I reside

With my hat

Half of my heart is there

The other half wonders

If I should wander….

Tense

Time has meaning. Perception is interpreted and responsive…….

Photo by Nick Bondarev on Pexels.com

I am

He is

She is

They are

Present

tense

here, existing, surviving

Willing and able

Kind, loving, giving,

Hurtful, powerful, weak

I was

He was

She was

They were

Past

tense

spent

Absent

Gone

Unwilling

Unable

Kind, loving, giving

Hurtful, powerful, weak

Past or present

Dead or alive

Near or far

We can be both

Present and past

January…..A month to stay in

So the new year is here, full of new years restrictions, a vaccine and hopefully, with hope….

image – authors own

The tinsel is wrapped and put away

The tree gone to the shredder

The Christmas lights once so bright

Have dimmed now all together

A new year’s day, a new year dawns

And we hope we can progress

It is with caution and foreboding

That I am fearful, I confess

The numbers they are growing

And infecting many lives

Invisible like a thief in the night

It will entice you and beguile

As it lures you in, into its grasp

When it sees you are complacent

The virus travels at quick speed

And does not victimise against us

So January it seems, is the month,

that we must pledge to stay in

To slow the spread of this disease

While letting others win

The people with the cancer

The mental health and needs

So great they need attention

But they just have to yield

And so it’s devastating

Whichever way we go

But stay in, we must in January

Cos they have told us so

And as we crash together

And crumble to our knees

Despairing as to whether

We succumb to our needs

For mankind needs a purpose

To go and do some work

It gives us direction and focus

And helps to prove our worth

So now we must all hibernate

And hope we will come through it

Unscathed and well and feeling whole

And hope we haven’t blown it

Essential workers don’t get to rest

Or hide behind closed doors

Their terror and their worry

Will stay with them some more

In order to protect us

 to treat us, and to cure

They go with trepidation

This virus, they abhor

So we all must do the best we can

To keep this ‘thing’ at bay

And hope we can come together

And have our ‘normal’ back some day

The Witching Hour

A little poem to get you in the mood…….

Photo by Thirdman on Pexels.com

The Witching Hour…

Oh come on out don’t be afraid

To play some trick or treat

Fill your bowls if not your souls

To make the night complete

Stop and stare, like you don’t care

At what you see in sight

But hold your gaze and look about

You might just get a fright

You may not see it, but feel it’s pull

As it starts to reel you in#

Gravitate, if you dare

Who says it is a sin?

Hocus pocus, it’s not a trick

If you’re yearning for the thrill

Take a breath, no place to hide

And aim for the kill

The ghosts, the ghouls, the demons too

Invite you out to play

But choose so very wisely

During the witching hour today