Cat O’ Nine Tales
Ann Howells
__________
Cats domesticated themselves
9000 years ago.
My neighbor’s cats are Powderpuff,
Queen of Sheeba, & Sugar Dumpling.
Their eyes glow like vitreous amber.
They loudly order dinner, stay
perpetually stoned on canned salmon.
My cat, silent & soot-colored, explores
unknown spaces, answers to no one.
Green eyes seek secret mouse-passages
he’ll stalk on stealthy fog feet
when only night creatures are awake.
My neighbor’s cats line the windowsill,
like a row of Toby jugs, utter vaguely
feline sounds deep in their throats
as they dream of devouring mice.
But mice grow plump, complacent.
My cat’s raspy pink tongue stays busy
washing his enormous glossy pelt.
He curls, an over-sized croissant,
peers beyond my façade,
but keeps my secrets & his own.
__________
April Joy
__________
Downy ears. Dark expressive eyes.
Furrowed forehead. She yodels,
or more accurately, bugles –
different than a hound’s throaty moan.
And did I mention
she opens doors? Our mystery dog.
Our Heinz 57. Our who-done-it,
rescued from the pound.
Exuberance earned her the name Joy.
Cat-like and lithe
she pursues mole and gecko,
snatches butterflies from the air,
low-flying sparrows,
and just week she pranced inside,
snake dangling her jaw.
Without hesitation my daughter instructed,
Take the snake to Grandma,
which, of course, she did,
dropped it at my feet –
a tiny garden-variety that we released.
But Joy, true to her name,
delights in excitement, enthusiasm, commotion,
repeats the scene twice.
And it’s only April.
__________
Who Rescued Whom
__________
He walks on sneakered paws,
ears folded in a perfect V –
envelope containing a love letter.
He leaves fringed prints
across my patio, sings arias
reaching high C.
He can wiggle his eyebrows.
For walkies, he crouches,
springs forward with a hop
like a large cottontail.
Stubbed tail set to vibrate
never sweeps papers
from the coffee table.
He dances for his dinner.
He requests attention –
thrusts a wet nose to my knee,
gives soft pink kisses.
When I settle with a book
and glass of wine, he snuggles –
heat-seeking missile.
His eyes are chocolate kisses.
__________
Dedication
The cat, unfortunately, is no longer with us. The dog in “April Joy” is my daughter’s. The dog in “Who Rescued Whom” is my own spoiled little mini-Schnauzer (Patterson).
__________
Ann Howells edited Illya’s Honey for eighteen years. Recent books: So Long As We Speak Their Names (Kelsay Books, 2019) and Painting the Pinwheel Sky (Assure Press, 2020). Chapbooks: Black Crow in Flight, Editor’s Choice –Main Street Rag, 2007 and Softly Beating Wings, 2017 William D. Barney winner (Blackbead Books). Her work appears Plainsongs, Schuylkill Valley Journal, and I-70 Review among other small press and university journals.
__________
To learn more about submitting your work to Boudin or applying to McNeese State University’s Creative Writing MFA program, please visit Submissions for details.
Posted in Boudin April '24 Pet and tagged in #boudin, #poetry