There’s no Thursday Kitten Blogging today, and there may not be any for a while, I’m afraid. Enkidu – mighty Enkidu, magnificent Enkidu – hurt his front-right paw at the weekend, we’re not sure how. He’s been hobbling around since then, and an x-ray today confirmed that he’s fractured a bone in his foot, and will have to have one of his legs heavily bandaged up for the next month or more, and we have to arrange his life so he won’t be jumping around much, or attempting to climb things, or generally doing cattish and kittenish things. He’s not a happy cat right now, and the next four or five weeks won’t be much fun for him, or for us, as we try to make his life as uneventful as possible, which means in practice that much of the time he’ll be in solitary confinement in our attic. So there’ll be no photographs for a bit, not until a modicum of joy returns to his life, and the spring to his step.
Someone reminded me it was National Poetry Day 2005 today. A couple of years ago, on NPD 2003, I posted a link to a cat-poem by Gavin Ewart, and I’ll post the full text here now. The cat in the poem is coming to the end of his long life; Enkidu’s still very much at the start of his. But it’s a poem that always moves me, and tonight to tears.
A 14-YEAR OLD CONVALESCENT CAT IN THE WINTER
By Gavin Ewart
I want him to have another living summer,
to lie in the sun and enjoy the douceur de vivre –
because the sun, like golden rum in a rummer,
is what makes an idle cat un tout petit peu ivre –
I want him to lie stretched out, contented,
revelling in the heat, his fur all dry and warm,
an Old Age Pensioner, retired, resented
by no one, and happinesses in a beelike swarm
to settle on him – postponed for another season
that last fated hateful journey to the vet
from which there is no return (and age the reason),
which must soon come – as I cannot forget.