Can one not feel the tiny claws of a kitten on his skin and stateー

“I trust you, so never mind the scratch, furry one”?

To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your meowing song?

As I placidly hear your amusing trills, I realize our appreciation is closely akin.

For twenty-four hours in the neverending year, I amuse myself dearly ー

As you, like a kit who grazes with mother fox in a hilly forest, cuddles and laughs in the soil.

My cat, while to most you are a gruesome thing, barely worth a nickel,

I audaciously declare ー “At least you’re less prone to fickle”.

Cat ー You are a life embedded in a silk quilt, threads so weary, a special piece.

You represent the individual emotion and lonely thought pervading a persistent evil that fails to cease.

Cat, do keep meowing close to me… please,

For is there anymore appreciation for something closely resembling a rainbow!

Is there anything more in a tragic world that can still lluminate cheerful hues?

We begin with a rapturous red ー

Red, marking the paws, those small, sensitive paws, eager to scratch and cut with affection.

Orange ー A sweet-tasting candy, always wanting more and more?

Green ー Trills, trills, trillssss upon seeing your furry face with mine in the sunflower-infested yard.

Though, my cat, you occasionally show Blue and Indigo and Violet ー

A starless night when the moon does not meet eye-to-eye,

Remember in that fuzzy head: “He is there, He is there, and He will stay.”

Dear cat, I can love you more than anyone would ever know,

But I cry in anguish upon seeing your body stripped off in the road.

But I shout in ire ー “Why must I see my friend live its life to an unexpected sorrow!”

I shoot with a weapon if I could to the one who kicks and hits an animal seen as a load.

Is it ever right to leave you to your own luck, in stray territory, defenseless and ill and bruised?

Have the malevolent devils feel no remorse, have they no conscience on a limping cat dying,

As their bodies gradually suffer to the end of their course?

You meow and meow and meow and meow and grow hoarse,

No one will take heed to see a feeble thing, like a lost child in a desolate, dark house.

No, they say ー “Not my business, not my problem, I have to deal with my kids and spouse.”

I feel resent for the damage they cause. 

The sight of dried blood speckled around your head in a puddle ー

I’m sorry ー I know you deserve more respect, despite society’s clouded excuses.

Cat, should black legends pervade the innate compassion we have for animals?

Must dogs always reign as the Kings, deemed to a hundred percent “man’s best friend”?

Must preferential treatment always reign in the Animal Kingdom?

A baby, yes, is a blessing completely, but an adult making its way with human kind is a miracle,

For society prefers the neat and the prim over the raggedy and the lousy.

Dear cat, remember, though, love persists even when the hate runs.

Others see a smelly, inept burden strolling the streets,

Its paws fresh with oozing blood, white patches blotching its fur,

And society simply critical ー “Boy, they reek!”

Society barely stunned, I see as conspicuous as ever,

But I, as humanely as ever, I ignore the loose teeth.

To what do I care to see the teary, swollen, red eyes, the mouth enveloped with ulcers?

You, my cat, we, together, are furry brothers and sisters akin.

And while all animals of great nature resemble a unified, fruitful tree,

It is you, my cat, that one significant puzzle piece in the wild land.

And so long as that tree stands, the branches cannot ever brittle down!