Monday, 4 April 2022

PeMon my little grey friend

 14 August 2007(?) – Sun 27 March 2022  (Age 14 years 6 months)

Memories of my little grey friend by Marcus Khoo 28 March 2022


2007 - so pivotal for the Khoo’s

When a little grey kitten chased pen tops into shoes

Throw the top and away you were gone!

Trotting back with bright eyes that shone

Swiping yellow toy or a simple blue string

You knew not what pleasure you would bring

No matter the years you had behind

You’re forever a kitten in my mind

 

“Where’s the kit?” is what Jan would say

Now - check the places to see where you lay

Sometimes come running with tail up high

Or with throaty miaow – for food you would cry

“Hi Babes” would I say to a grey ball on bed

        A silent miaow from your little raised head

In “do not disturb” mode – when your sleep was so light

        Your response was a gentle claw or a bite

 

Now when about two - what a tragic event

        Hit by a car round in Berkeley Crescent

Then that long “op” was to repair your rear hock

        Your stressful saliva that seemed not to stop

Cat sitting volunteers - well they’ve been a-plenty

        (To always ensure our home was not empty)

To them was presented a kill you had hunted

        with feathers and corpses, they were confronted

 

Hunting skills were so many and  sight to behold

        That first RAT(!) - on our kitchen tiles cold

And all of those mice! – caught to show off your skill

        With signature Miaow that announced the kill

Now when at Petter Close, in garden facing South

        You sprung and in “mid-air” caught blackbird in mouth

I’ll never forget that you once caught a bat

        T'was constantly amazed with your skills as a cat

 

I remember so well into bedroom you bought

        An intact and living magpie you caught

What panic in me - but none did you show

        I thankfully coaxed it out of window

And to see you walking on top of a fence

        was clearly to show off amazing balance

Now when Martin came over with ankle steel plate

        The loss of one canine was sadly your fate

 

Being led outside - in my mind this is etched

        Demanding long strokes on your body outstretched

And being led to the bathroom - you did this a lot

        For nuzzling session and your “silly” flop

To open a door? – your battle oft won

        No sound, just sit, look up, till done

But trips to the vet – a decision hard pressed

        A heart wrenching cry would make us so stressed

 

Some demands you would tell us by scratching at doors

        They had to be opened – said the sound of your claws

And when to bed late - at midnight about

        A stroke of your back and purrs would sound out

At night, sometimes atop bed you would park

And commence a wash cycle - even when dark

Scratching to gain access to our bedroom eaves

Or demanding Miaow's - whatever you pleased

 

Antics during my bathing - with bathroom door closed

        You’d be on the bath side and paw at my toes

And I remember sometimes on my blue towel you’d sit

        And just stay there as company with me for a bit

Sometimes you would bound up to the sink

        And demand the tap to be opened to drink

Never mind me, for if shut was the door

        You’d sit looking up and then scratch with your paw

 

When attempting to satisfy your culinary taste

        So much food was shunned and sent to waste

Oh! what a fussy eater you became

        “Finest choice morsels” was the name of that game

Now what did you love most on your white dish?

Ah, your favourite - raw tuna fish!

But for you my little kit, no cost would be spared

        'Cause it celebrated all our experiences shared

 

Since once you filled our lives with gladness,

Now there is only distress and sadness

Our last weeks together so incredibly hard

Your fading away like being pierced by a shard

No more wash cycles for you and no appetite

No more darting around – just a loss of fight

So we knew when it was the loving thing to do

To say goodbye and for me was too soon

 

I now find it difficult - so hard to stand tall

        Never again to see you my little furball

A hole I have here right in my being

        because your trotting – not again will I be seeing

I will always remember the kitten cat you were

Not that shadow of yourself with the matted fur

And now I must get used to us being unreachably apart

But please rest assured you will forever be in my heart

 

 



No comments:

Post a Comment