Monday, November 8, 2010

Goodbye Jackson

I do not like cats. I do not try to hide the fact that I do not like cats. There have been very few cats that have crossed my path that I have any kind of affection for at all. Clancy was a large gray cat of my childhood. A fine and affectionate cat, I could have however done without the mouse guts that he would reward us with on our door mat. Barn Cat was a cat that basically ruled our family farm. Probably the strongest of all of the animals living on the farm at that time. She was eternally pregnant and probably has a rivaled amount of descendants to Noah's wife. But, Barn Cat had class. She had the cat attitude that I disdain, but could still let certain people past her emotional wall, her tough exterior, (she only had half a tail) to be an affectionate friend. Finally, there was Jackson. Jackson was a tough, large, black cat with a really distinguishing nick in the point of his left ear. He was the only cat, to my knowledge, to out-mouse Barn Cat. We would let Jackson in our chicken house and he knew to ignore the birds. He would then proceed to hunt in specific areas and without fail head for the door within three minutes with a plump, juicy mouse hanging from his mouth. He was a king, a ranger, a mouser, and a love. Even though he would spray your car like nobodies business, Jackson was a loyal friend who would always be around the farm even when no one else was. Goodbye Jackson.

1 comment:

Jeffrey Dennis Pearce said...

A WRITER'S CAT

I remember the day a favorite cat died.
At dawn I carried him into the garden and laid him on a bed of mint,
Still breathing.
The eyes I had known for almost thirteen years followed me about.
When the post arrived, he gave a short purr.

It had been his habit since a kitten.
It was his last link with my world of manuscripts and books.
Our parting would be soon.
Later when I wrapped him in an old cardigan
I thought of Anatole France and St. Mael's
baptism of the penguins
And how St. Catherine had said:
"Give them souls -- but tiny ones."

I will settle for that
For my cat.

By Neville Braybrooke (1923-2001)