Monday, January 4, 2010

Our old boy

Wilbur, was 17 years old this October just gone. He is a bit of a sad sack - always has been, we rescued him from the RSPCA when he was about six month old. He is a Russian Blue, very beautiful but not keen on people in general and especially not children.

Tonight as I sat with knitting on my lap (I'm up to the sleeves) he looked about for somewhere to sleep - and spied the only free lap to be that of a fidgity eight year old. Much to her surprise and delight he jumped up and then curled up on her little lap. She, recognising what special moment it was sat stock still for quite some time before gingerly reaching down to give his little chin a scratch - he purred and her heart was beating with joy. "mummy" she whispered "look who is sitting on me!"
I remember the joy of the first family cat I can recall finally loving me when I was small - he was grey too - Gunsynd was his name and oh how I did love him back.
So while I was sitting knitting and watching my girl get some loving from our old boy I remembered this poem and said little bits to myself as i knat. It was my gandmother's favourite, my mum likes it very much too...

Pinkle Purr

By A. A. Milne

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
A little black nothing of feet and fur;
And by and by, when his eyes came through,
He saw his mother, the big Tattoo.
And all that he learned he learned from her,
"I'll ask my mother," says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
A ridiculous kitten with silky fur.
And little black Pinkle grew and grew
Till he got as big as the big Tattoo.
And all he did he did with her.
"Two friends together," says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
An adventurous cat in a coat of fur.
And whenever he thought of a thing to do,
He didn't much bother about Tattoo.
For he knows it's nothing to do with her,
So "See you later," says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
An enormous leopard with coal-black fur.
A little brown kitten that's nearly new
Is now playing games with its big Tattoo...
And Pink looks lazily down at her:
"Dear little Tat," says Pinkle Purr.

1 comment:

themother said...

Oooohh, that takes me back. You're right. I do love that puss poem. Aand Gunky loved you, too.
I miss all our old pusses; there have been so many over the years. But I don't think any of them lasted 17 years!