Old Age


Being a cat-lover I wrote this little piece some years ago about one of our lovely felines now long gone. I hope it will amuse someone.

I am a feline geriatric

my coat is all shiny and black,

sitting here in the window 

I can’t help looking back

to the days when I was a kitten,

when the world was full of fun,

when my mother and I 

in the days gone by 

chased rabbits and mice on the run.


My father they say was ugly,

a monster all shiny and black,

always feeding and fighting 

for what it was worth,

with a big jagged scar on his back.

It was said that he got it one autumn

when he was chasing a toad

he forgot to look left,

and forgot to look right

as he chased it across the road.


He woke up at the veterinary surgeon’s

who lived quite near in the town,

he snarled at the man bending over him

in his cap, and his mask and his gown.

“What.s the matter with me ?”,growled my father.

“I’m feeling all stiff and I’m sick!”

“That’s right”,said the veterinary ,

” you better get better quick”.


“For once let this be  a warning

next time you chase a toad

look left and look right,

and prick up your ears 

before you cross the road”.


So the old man got himself better,

but life was never the same,

no more feeding and fighting 

and growling at vets,

no more chasing or playing a game.


Now I sit here like the old man,

with my coat all shiny and black

but like all feline geriatrics 

all I can do is look back.





© pommer 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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Nice one Peter, but I’m not at all certain it was just the cat you were writing about – there was more than one reference to being an old codger that was very familiar to me.
Keep on writing my old friend.


I kind of thought the same as Kipper, I hope you still have more of your nine lives left.


Congrats on you reaching your tenth decade. I hope you’re feline good and ready for more.
Best as always, Michael.

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