clive and mims: a love story :: {personal}

Strange companions I must name them
Strange to see their friendship blossom
When she hated little persons,
Or–at least–the ones that toddled.

Long his brother she avoided,
Once he set to crawl and holler–
Once his interest fixed upon her–
Never mind his gentle nature.

But the younger one she shadowed,
Sought him out wherever he rested,
Longed to partake in his rituals,
Photobombed his monthly pictures.

She was here for years before him,
Watched his heralded homecoming.
Many months he passed in ignorance,
Without knowing she existed.

Now he sits upon the carpet
Busy with his toy-inspection;
She will be his close companion
Even though he fuss, and push her.

How is it her patience lingers
While he pulls her tail and whiskers,
While his hands are full of cat-fur,
Laughing at the way it tickles?

Faithfully she waits beside him–
Or sits on him, if he lets her–
‘Till his Mama comes to get him,
Takes him upstairs for his naptime.

Do they know the bond between them?
Can each understand the other?
Does she know when he’ll return, and
Does she miss him while he’s napping?

Does he realize he lacks
Her furry, feline, loyal presence?
Does he hope, while sleep is coming,
She’ll be there when he awakens?

Softly down the stairs he’s carried,
Sweetly starts excited babbling;
Swiftly from her seat she hastens,
Just to sit beside his Boppy.

Solemnly the hours are passing
While they sit and smile together,
Theirs a love that’s fit for lasting–
(‘Til he learns to crawl and holler.)

-e g allis

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clive and mims: a love story :: {personal}

2 thoughts on “clive and mims: a love story :: {personal}

  1. I loved your poem, and your photos even more. Especially the one with the hair in the hand…brings back memories of my son and dog at about the same age. That kind of tolerance is definitely true love.

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