Daily Archives: July 10, 2014

Cats Are Cats

Earlier this week, I stopped in at our local DAV thrift shop to check on the vintage glassware. (I still have that glass bird feeder project in the back of my mind.)

I found a couple of pieces, paid for them, and had started to the door, when this book caught my eye.

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I glanced through it, liked the couple of poems I read and was amazed at the art work, so I decided to buy it.

Just look at this illustration.

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True

When
the green eyes
of a cat
look deep into
you

you know
that
whatever it is
they are saying
is
true.

Lillian Moore

It seems there’s almost always been a cat in my life through the years. During my childhood, most of them were strictly outdoor kitties. The poem with this next illustration brought back sad memories of all the cats in my past who simply disappeared. For days months, I longed for each kitty to return, until finally I realized that it was gone forever.

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She took a last and simple meal when there were none to see her steal–
a jug of cream upon the shelf, a fish prepared for dinner;
And now she walks a distant street with delicately sandalled feet,
And no one gives her much to eat or weeps to see her thinner.

O my beloved come again, come back in joy, come back in pain,
To end our searching with a mew, or with a purr our grieving;
And you shall have for lunch or tea whatever fish swim in the sea
And all the cream that’s meant for me — and not a word of thieving!
E.V. Rieu

But this is probably my favorite poem in the book

A Different Door

When rain stays, gray and unabating,
And long kept in he stares out, waiting,
And no one heeds and starts unlatching
Our back door, Tom tries front door-scratching.

That cat, he’s not what you’d call bright –
Still, for a chance, however slight,
At wren-songed skies where rainbows soar,
Who wouldn’t scratch some different door?

X.J. Kennedy

Other than the poetry and illustrations, there were a couple of other things about this book that amazed me.

1.) It’s signed by the author,

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And…

2.) The author signed it to the library of Marshall’s alma mater. Although neither of us remember it, he could possibly have read this book in elementary school.

Oh, and did you notice the price tag?  98-cents. What a bargain.

~These Days Of Mine~