He was Boz -
Picked me out from the people who looked
at the SPCA, for a new pet
to charm and inspire them
one cold Winter's day
He was sitting in the cat compound
with a superior expression
as if to say, why am I here?
you know I'm too good for this place,
so you should take me home.
He was a cream fluffy Persian
with apricot tints
a majestical vision among the moggy riff-raff
not seeing, not mingling, not mixing
for fear that such lowlings might tarnish his image
He might have been nervous
and wasn't sure about my small house when we arrived
I wondered if was used to better
but he carefully inspected everything
then sat down with a sniff and said "this will do".
He loved to play
and had a superb sense of humour
quite a natural clown in fact
entertaining me as he slid right across my shiny table
and falling with a plop on the floor.
He had a good appetite
and would eat very well
but as time went by
I learned that this boy was a very fussy eater
and only the finest delicacies would do.
He chased the neighbour's dog
when it poked it's nosey nose right in our door
it must have been an unforgettable lesson
as the young Doberman sprang away at a fast gallop
with a cream vision of fluff chasing behind.
He was extremely flexible
wherever I went, he went and seemed happy
we moved house several times and for each move
he would check out the new place and then flop down
as if to say ' so this is where we live now?'
He was a terrible hunter
in his entire lifetime he only caught 2 birds
brought both into the house
and chased them around the lounge
until they fell exhausted and dead on the carpet
He couldn’t climb trees either
he'd jump up the trunk about 4 feet
then his instincts and strength would desert him
and he'd fall back down
landing heavily and looking surprised.
He loved travelling in the car
would sit and talk loudly to start with
then settle down and enjoy the ride and
before long he was a snoring passenger
until we reached our destination where he'd get out of the car with a yawn and a stretch.
He loved Sam
Sam was Bozzie's best mate
a big black labrador with a lolloping gait
they'd sit at the front door telling stories
and scaring off intruders until the sun went down.
We knew he got up to mischief
when we left him at home for several hours at a time
we think he called in his mates and they'd smoke, drink and gamble,
then run back home when they heard our car
leaving the house looking as if no-one had been there
He was a bit of a bully
when other cats came around
he'd chase and terrorise them
then escort them off the property at a fast clip
and they never showed their furry faces at our place again.
As he got older he became smaller
he lost weight and his fur thinned
and no longer had the stature
of the boy he was when he used to throw his weight around
but he still let you know who was boss when it counted.
He was Boz
A lovely cream fluffy Persian with apricot tints
21 human years old, at the end - that's 147 in cat
he had a great life and fabulous adventures
for a cat who came from the SPCA with a superior look on his face
© Julie Vause - All Rights Reserved