We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

8.4.24

Fate?


A mistake. You might say a mischance.

Not really supposed to happen.

Not in my agenda, definitely against.


‘No more cats!’ I vowed, when

Freya and Levi (numbers 6 and 7,

brother and sister) finally, in turn,

crossed the Rainbow Bridge – at 

a goodly age, only a year apart. 

‘It hurts too much,’ I told myself.


 And for a while it was nice to have 

more money, and the freedom 

to stay out late or even go away.


But then my friend’s daughter, who 

not long before bought Queenie 

off Gum Tree, had a sudden change 

of circumstance, couldn’t keep her.

‘Please!’ begged my friend. ‘She’s so 

lovely!’ (Her own landlord didn’t allow.)


‘Don’t let her go to the Pound!’

So I didn’t. I renamed her Selene,

rhyming with the name she knew.


She was elegant, mysterious, aloof

as a moon goddess. And traumatised

by two so sudden changes of home.

It took months for us to get past detente.

But I came to love her fiercely. She went

from wary to sleeping on me and purring.


She wasn’t young, and carried within her

seeds of an unknown illness. The vet said

to investigate further risked in itself killing her.


Three happy years, then a sudden decline.

I did what I had to, to save her further pain.

‘That’s really it!’ I said. ‘I can’t go past

that intense, unexpected love, that too-brief

fulfilment, that piercing grief. No more

cats, ever! This time I really mean it.’


Fate had a fresh surprise for me, only a few 

months later. Friend-of-a-friend’s dear cat unable

to accompany them to a new home (long story).


About to be put down, only because they couldn't

allow her to go to just anyone. Fair enough. 

We arranged that I’d make a few visits, become 

acquainted with Poppi. A dignified little personage, 

she liked me at once. When the time came, they 

brought her to my place, with all her familiar stuff.


Her favourite person hugged her goodbye.

‘Take good care of her!’ he implored, tears

unshed misting his eyes. ‘I promise!’ I said.


She settled in, explored the space. The third day

she went all over as if looking for something … 

or someone? But then she turned wholeheartedly 

to me. Loved and pampered all her life, affection

and trust came easily to her. And she knew me,

knew that I came with her first family’s blessing.


I didn’t fall all the way in love at once. But I did

like her very much. It wasn't long until I realised

she’s not only cute but sweet-natured, and very smart.


She’s another old girl (like me) – ten when she moved in. 

Now, three and a bit years later, she’s my treasure, my 

constant joy, my greatest blessing, and yes, my dear love, 

the perfect cat for me at this present time – which seems

as if it will stretch a lot longer yet. Lightning strikes twice! 

Two unforeseen, undesired, miraculous major events.



[See revised version.]


Combining the NaPoWriMo prompt to write about a meeting/interaction that wasn't supposed to happen with the PAD prompt of a major event.






Selene




Poppi


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