meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Dedicated For Those Whose Door Has Never Been Opened


I think of him
striped and lost
returning to the same back door step
that does not belong to him
the kind lady feeding him indulgently
for a time
through the blistering hot summer
until September 15th

and then comes a plea
over the neighborhood internet:
sweet boy kitty at Multnomah
cat shelter... had been feeding him all summer
long... posted signs and no owner came forward
...so I took him to shelter...he is
multi-colored, striped, loving, even-tempered,
possibly abandoned... please pass on
has been there since September 15th
urgent...posted on 9/26/2014

I sense a twinge of guilt/remorse/earnestness

but what it must be like for those
who keep going to the doors of others who
don't really want us

hoping to be loved but knowing we are not
going to be loved
forgetting this disappointment every evening so that
one can begin feeling hopeful each day
that the door will open
but it does not
it just never does

the pain of it
can be crushing
confusing

"simpering softy"
you might say that to me
all that emotion for a stupid cat?

some of you might add "so what,
its only a stupid cat..."
well, there are those who would try
so hard for a cat only to give up on people...


and we do give up on other relationships
like these fine examples every single day:

our earth
our fellow creatures
other cultures, countries
our parents
our siblings
our friends
ourselves

its no small wonder some neighbor woman
got tired of looking out for a stray
who was desperate and hungry
looking for love and a home
but lucked out in the end
luck?

but I am crying now, none too softly
as I sit at the computer typing this out

I'm remembering the neighborhood
papered with pictures
of a brown tabby cat looking hopefully into the face
of the person taking his picture
on a back porch on a hot summer afternoon
most likely he was waiting expectantly to be fed
and wondering what the fuss was about...

would it have been kinder if he had
been left for dead?

or shipped off earlier without the intermittent
kindnesses?

what if he had known his destiny? understood?
intuited it? forgiven her?

that thought is what is keeping my fingers typing
and the tears flowing.

I am holding my breath some as well and
saying a prayer for him crossing my
grubby chewed up fingers

somehow I'm
hoping he's still breathing
and leaving the over-crowded shelter
with someone kindly and new

haven't we all been and felt unwanted
haven't we all been and felt unloved

and shouldn't this stop us from...

destroying all that is innocent
and good?

oh I know
people do the best they can
whatever that means.





Copyright September 23, 2014
All Rights Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells Tilt-a-World



the last sentence is a Candide kind of reference and
no, just because I don't believe this is the best of all
possible worlds, does that make me the eternal pessimist.






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