qarrtsiluni

by Phyllis Klein

We pounced off the fence to convene
our weekly meeting of the Northern California
Cats Against Homelessness or NCCAH.
We keep up with vacancies in the area,
try to place our kind into the right homes.
A spot was available on Idaho Street where
Bonnie lived until she was put down by the Vet,
Dr. Steve at the end. We knew Bonnie’s woman—she
adopted Orphan Annie off the porch steps years ago
in Michigan when Annie was hungry and homeless.
Okay, we knew Bonnie’s woman wasn’t perfect,
let Annie get knocked up, left her and her kittens
behind for the West Coast, but in decent placements.
Listen, we’re working on a shortage here,
that’s just the way it is in California,
so we have to make allowances.
The human did take care of Bonnie till the end,
and got a good reference, but Bonnie would say
nice things about anyone, don’t you know.
And there was the asthma thing that got pegged
as hairballs, the stomach thing, the cancer,
the matted hair-pulling and brushing, we thought
a short-hair would work better in this situation,
got it all set up with Snowball who was
getting rehab over in the Baylands, until we heard—
the woman’s considering a DOG!
What a nerve on that human!
Snowball wouldn’t come out from under a rockpile
by the bay for a week, we told her don’t worry,
keep your tail high, maybe go over there and try
anyway, you know, soften her up, you do have
those bedroom eyes.

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Phyllis Klein has been writing poetry for many years and has published most recently in the Emerge Journal. She works as a psychotherapist and a poetry therapist and believes in creativity for its own sake and as a healing force.