There is the nice poem entitled “To My Dog” by my favorite poet. In this lyric a man was sitting by the fireside, and his dog curled up at his feet (the dog is a husky in all appearance). In the first line he addressed to the dog:

“Dream, dream. More and more blear
are your golden eyes
watching the hoar window-pane,
the snow-clad courtyard,
the frosty, smoky poplar-trees.

Sighing you’ve curled up at my feet,
and you think… that too often
we torment ourselves yearning for other fields,
other wilderness--beyond the Permian mountains…”

The final stanza of the poem is:

“…And I always share musings with you:
I am a human. Like a god I’m doomed
to get through sadness of all peoples and all times”.

Me too; I had my little dumb companion too. It was my late kitty that used to be lying near by while I spent time at the computer at the morning hours when all the rest indwellers slept at home, and the pale fire of the screen was like the fireside.
She was 17. It was breast cancer. Since her death in 2006 I can’t think of getting hold of other cat; I just help the stray cats as well as dogs and other animals and birds. Now one tomcat, my good friend visits me. He comes, and I give him much milk and food, and then he goes to bed. I’d like him to spend the night home, but he doesn’t--after sleep he goes out for a night walk.

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To know them is to love them.

The essay “The Last Caress of the Dead Cat” is an Obituary of my cat that died in 2006. For cat lovers. READ THE ESSAY:
http://www.geocities.com/larisabee/mykitty_eng2.doc"

Charles Baudelaire
*The Cat*
I
A fine strong gentle cat is prowling
As in his bedroom, in my brain;
So soft his voice, so smooth its strain,
That you can scarcely hear him miowling.
But should he venture to complain
Or scold, the voice is rich and deep:
And thus he manages to keep
The charm of his untroubled reign.
This voice, which seems to pearl and filter
Through my soul's inmost shady nook,
Fills me with poems, like a book,
And fortifies me, like a philtre.
His voice can cure the direst pain
And it contains the rarest raptures.
The deepest meanings, which it captures,
It needs no language to explain.
There is no bow that can so sweep
That perfect instrument, my heart:
Or make more sumptuous music start
From its most vibrant cord and deep,
Than can the voice of this strange elf,
This cat, bewitching and seraphic,
Subtly harmonious in his traffic
With all things else, and with himself.
II
So sweet a perfume seems to swim
Out of his fur both brown and bright,
I nearly was embalmed one night
From (only once) caressing him.
Familiar Lar of where I stay,
He rules, presides, inspires and teaches
All things to which his empire reaches.
Perhaps he is a god, or fay.
When to a cherished cat my gaze
Is magnet-drawn and then returns
Back to itself, it there discerns,
With strange excitement and amaze,
Deep down in my own self, the rays
Of living opals, torch-like gleams
And pallid fire of eyes, it seems,
That fixedly return my gaze.

Charles Baudelaire
*Cats*
Sages austere and fervent lovers both,
In their ripe season, cherish cats, the pride
Of hearths, strong, mild, and to themselves allied
In chilly stealth and sedentary sloth.
Friends both to lust and learning, they frequent
Silence, and love the horror darkness breeds.
Erebus would have chosen them for steeds
To hearses, could their pride to it have bent.
Dreaming, the noble postures they assume
Of sphinxes stretching out into the gloom
That seems to swoon into an endless trance.
Their fertile flanks are full of sparks that tingle,
And particles of gold, like grains of shingle,
Vaguely be-star their pupils as they glance.

*beauty*
I plucked a flower, and it withered.
I caught a moth, and it died on the palm of my hand.
And then I realized
that one needs touch beauty only with his heart.

*Monologue of the Tomcat, My Good Friend*
“It’s nice of you to feed me with the tasty fish! I am warm and satisfied; now I can lie down on the pillow. Though you’ve forgotten to caress my belly and my ears. I am about to croon a song for you. Don’t drive me away off the table! There are more interesting matters, of course. Look there! What a lady-cat walks outside the window! Well… Are you lonely again? Why are you engaged in the witchcraft at the luminous screen again? Let’s go up to the roof to watch the stars! And to sing songs all night long, till the morning light! You don’t want to? And you are pale… Meow-meow… Now then, smile, for you can do it! After all, say everything to him, and let him not sleep! You love yourself so little and you don’t pity yourself…”

*The Time has Come. . .*
The time has come, and the animals of the becoming extinct species go to register themselves in the Red Book without waiting till someone do it instead to them.
At the Registry Office of the Red Book.
Clerk: You name?
1st Animal: Gopher Crested.
Clerk: How many are you?
1st Animal: I am alone.
Clerk: What do you complain of?
1st Animal: I am alone.
Clerk: Your sex?
1st Animal: Male.
Now the Clerk is called to come to other study.
The Clerk: Would you be at the desk instead of me while I’m away?
1st Animal nodded. The Clerk left the study. 1st Animal sat at the desk. 2nd Animal came in.
1st Animal: Your Name?
2nd Animal: Gopher Crested.
Pause.
1st Animal: How many are you?
2nd Animal: I am alone.
1st Animal: Your sex?
2nd Animal opened his mouth to answer, but 1st Animal interrupted him taking his hand in his gently.
1st Animal: Don’t hasten to answer…

*A Vegetarian Themed Dialog*
The Tomcat and the Donkey are carrying on a fashionable conversation.
Tomcat: What do you have for dinner usually?
Donkey: Burs.
Tomcat: Burs?
Donkey: Yes, I prefer spicy food.
Tomcat: Do you eat meat?
Donkey: Meat? Meat is a load and not food. One puts it in my cart, you silly little thing!
Tomcat: Well… Do you drink milk?
Donkey: Milk! It’s when I was a baby. Warm, sweet, paradise!
Let’s be like the Donkey!