A Cat called Eugene

Poems from behind the fur.

---

Chapter I

I'm a cat
called Eugene.
Humans
named me.
I kept it.
It seemed
important
to them.

—

Humans have a story about how I arrived.
Something about a car.
Two weeks old.
Wheee....plop.
I don't keep that story.
Morning came.
Back door opened.
"He's coming!"
Full ginger.
Full meep.
Full pelt.
Past.
Every day the same.
Run until the running ran out.
Sleep until it came back.

—

Sam lived here before me.
Old cat.
Good cat.
He never made speeches.
Just showed me where the bird bath was.
Which fence was easiest.
Which windows caught the afternoon sun.
And if the people were late...
next door's dog was hopeless at guarding his dinner.
Important things.

Years later
a tiny stray called Cleo arrived.
I showed her the bird bath.
The sunny windows.
The dog.
She never met Sam.
Still...
she knows.

That's how cat works.


— Observed by Eugene.
Recorded by UpsilonA.