Stevie Ray and Double Trouble

The writing assignment here was to write a poem that personified an animal.  At the time I wrote this, Steve Ray was our family cat.  He was just the best ever.  Stevie Ray loved popcorn and lettuce.  He loved to perch on the small ledge between the sink and the edge of the counter.  He loved to snuggle, and his purr was long and loud.  He loved being rubbed just in front of his ears – so much so that he had very little fur there!  We had rubbed him bald!  He would “talk” to you when you came home from work or school.  Almost as if he were saying, “Hey! How was your day?”  Stevie Ray was all gray, except for a small white spot on his chest.  He came to our family as a kitten right around my 14th birthday, and died on Christmas day in 2001.  We almost lost him just a few months after he joined our family.  Somehow he had eaten an entire ham and cheese Hot Pocket, and ended up barfing it all up on my pillow late one night.  Dad cleaned it up for me (thanks Dad!) and put Stevie in the garage in case he puked more.  We woke up the next morning, and Stevie Ray had somehow gotten his head stuck in the spokes of a bicycle.  The spokes were pinching his neck, and had cut off circulation to his brain.  He was so close to dead.  We BEGGED Mom and Dad to do something, so we rushed him to the pet emergency room.  I’m certain they had to pay about a million dollars to save this cat’s life, but save it they did.  For a few weeks after he came home, he was a little spacey – staring off into nothing, walking into walls, etc.  After a while he was right back to normal though, and I think he was even more loving with us after that.  It’s like he knew that we had rescued him from death, and snuggled and purred even more as a thank you.  

So here is the poem I wrote from Stevie Ray’s point of view…

STEVIE RAY AND DOUBLE TROUBLE

She came in flustered again today.
Probably another hard day on the job.
Probably another long day of lectures and notes.
She comes home to the messes that await her from yesterday,
And the day before,
And all she wants is to sit and forget.

Forget the day.
Forget the work.
Forget her troubles.
Forget him.
Forget that she’s lonely.
Forget that she’s afraid.
Forget that she’s wrong.

She sits and stares at the trivia show
With the day running through her mind
In fast forward
Only stopping on the bad parts, 
And going too fast through the good.
I sense her pain.
We are close.
I sense her pain.
I too want to forget.

Forget the day.
Forget the work.
Forget my troubles.
Forget the spider hiding on the wall behind her favorite picture.
Forget the scratches I made on the wall.
Forget that I pooped on the bathroom rug.

Two beings
Wanting to forget the world.
So I curl up in her lap, 
Purr, 
And we forget the day together.

Katie Swisher (née Kermeen)
September 14, 1999

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