The cat in the picture is Rutherford (1978 - 1995). Her name was picked before she appeared. As a tiny kitten she crawled out from under a Quonset hut used as an animal collection point in Hinesville, Georgia and walked up to me and my kids. She traveled from Georgia to Germany to California, and, eventually, to Texas. My wife didn't want her in the divorce, so, she stayed with me until she died. I buried her in the corner of the yard, and, later, planted a Joseph's Coat rose bush over her. That's gone too. Things pass.
Little kitten on the window sill,
Staring out at the birds of Spring,
Who stole the meat put out for dinner,
And then destroyed my magazine?
Older kitten, still quite wild,
Why are my flower pots all broken?
Is this spot upon the carpet,
Your calling card, or passing token?
Kit turned cat, and now sedate,
Content with Sun and midday nap,
Asking only food and water,
For hours curled up on my lap.
Cat grown old, gray whiskered friend,
Whose fires of youth are burning low,
Where went the kitten I remember,
Dashing madly to and fro?
Cat now gone, but well remembered,
You ever were my shadow friend,
From first sight of the awkward kitten,
'Til last we parted at the end.
Donovan Baldwin
