Here is Fishbone looking out the window at a cat named Morph. She can't figure out why I run to fetch him a little snack when he comes calling. He's not even nice to her...at all. I mean, how rude of me to be so nice to someone that is so nasty to her...
But once upon a time, I had a orange Tom, too. And Crook and Morph were best friends. Every single morning, Morph would come to my front door and "knock" to see if Crook could come out and play. I kid you not.
He'd place his little orange feet on the front door and rattle it in its frame until I would answer it. He'd wait on the front porch for Crook to come out and off they would go to rule their universe together.
And when I had Crook(and the ugly-old-not-sexy pellet stove), I also had a very old, dear and treasured friend. We brought Crook home from the SPCA so that Maggie would have company during the day while we gone from the house.They did seem to like each other very much. It might have even been love... a very understated love...with glancing blows of affection.
And very soon after Maggie left me...left us, Crook crossed over, too. I like to think of them together, sleeping by a warm fire while they wait for me. I miss them like crazy.
So Morph is leaving...a frequent visitor and reminder of fallen leaves, time passing, loves lost, friends grieved and memories to warm your hands by. He is a good little orange soul and I am happy that he will be off this street, though I will miss his appearances at my window, as if he is still here to pick up Crook for a good romp through the backyards...as if these things were not already gone forever.
So Morph is leaving...a frequent visitor and reminder of fallen leaves, time passing, loves lost, friends grieved and memories to warm your hands by. He is a good little orange soul and I am happy that he will be off this street, though I will miss his appearances at my window, as if he is still here to pick up Crook for a good romp through the backyards...as if these things were not already gone forever.
7 comments:
sniffle...lump in throat...
wiping tear....
Love, love, love that first pic of fishbone peering out the window at Morph. Was she growling or just concerned?
I had a orange tom once, too, named Harv. He used to chase (and catch) seagulls.
Good memories. Where would we be without our pets...
She wasn't growling but she is terrified of Morph cuz he is a big boy who spits at her whenever they see each other. I think he is unhappy that she is here and Crook is not. She is only ever this "close" to him through the window.
That is such a cute story, it is a shame that good things have to come to an end. But as you say, "and then we begin again"
"I like to think of them together, sleeping by a warm fire while they wait for me."
Beautiful.
crook is who brought us together, he and spazzz. oh sweet sweet toms...
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