Poem from a Feral Cat
I may never be a lap cat,
or one who comes when called.
I may resist the hand that tries to touch
and some may think I’m flawed.
I may prefer my freedom
to your warm and cozy house
I may reject a bowl of finest foods
for the chance to catch a mouse.
But the box you put out for me,
Feels safe and warm and dry.
And I raise my eyes to thank you
when I see you walking by.
I eat the food you give me
I listen to your voice
I may never be a lap cat
but thank you for offering me the choice.
One day I’ll see the winter,
one day I’ll feel the rain,
I may grow old not knowing
there is freedom from this pain
I know you’ve tried to help me
and although my days will end
I may never be a lap cat
but I know you are my friend.
I think of my outsider-cat friend, Sable, when I read this. She comes by almost every night for soft-food, or to eat from the hard-food bowl that’s always filled, or to drink from the clean water provided. She will run away until she hears my voice, then she waits for her food. When she is done, she runs off. She’s never expressed the slightest desire for anything else. I have a cat-house filed with warm straw near by but she never uses it, and keeps her distance from me and my door. But she trusts me to help her survive.
Our Peppermint has been with us for over 10 years, She sleeps under a heat lamp in the winter and in our garden all other times. How she has survived other wandering cats and the occasional fox and raccoon, I don’t know. We have accidentally touched her whisker when feeding once. She has survived floods, a hurricane, and a 3 day freeze without electricity. No heat lamp. No heating pad. We love her and wish we could do more for her. She waits for our cat to be put in his tent each evening and loves on him (he is totally vaccinated for everything) until we bring him in. She has come in once during the 3 day rain storm but we had to keep our cat on a leash because we had to keep the door open…always looking for the escape route. A beautiful calitabby.