Every morning our tabby
sits beside the grave
beside the wall
of her black predecessor
Our lass and I joke
she is speaking
to her ‘grandma’
My Nana hated cats
who left “messages”
in her garden
“Don’t know how
people can live
with cat hair…
disgusting how people
let them walk
on surfaces.”
She never visited us.
Cat and Nana never met.
Their senses failed
at the same time.
Eyes, ears, mouth.
Something told me
not long after our cat
went Nana would too.
Arrived from work
our cat rigor mortis stiff
across her armchair.
Three days later
I got the phone call.
Nana had fallen.
I sat beside her
hospital bedside.
Arrived home to find
a new tabby cat
who asked me
to stroke her
in the way our
black cat did.
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The Wombwell Rainbow 