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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Daily Cascade #1099229 added October 13, 2025 at 12:53pm
Restrictions: None
That Symphony of Purrs
Prompt: pets
Write about the best things about being a cat (or any other pet) owner and what your animal friends have taught you.
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Before I talk about the best things, let me talk about the worst thing, possibly the only worst thing. They die. As did my last cat. As did all the other dogs and cats I got so attached to throughout my life. And that broke me in so very many ways.
Now that I've gotten the worst out of the way, let me talk about the "How do I love thee"s when it comes to an animal family member.
For me, being a cat companion, especially of my last cat Noche, meant being immersed into her world of mysterious elegance, her gentle friendship, and her surprisingly profound lessons. She definitely had a certain magic about her. So what were those lessons and joy handed to me by my whiskered wonder?
To begin with, her affection was unconditional. It was a privilege given only to me, I felt. It meant living with her head nuzzles, unrestrained joyful leaps, her purrs against my legs, her nosiness into anything I was doing such as making the bed, her long stares at me with slow blinks in between, and her talking in her sleep while she lay in bed with me at nights.
Noche wasn't a lap cat, but she always found the closest spot to me and I always provided one for her. At times, she liked to be picked up and loved, and her purrs were my constant grounding, a simple happiness of the moment, but she preferred to be put in her seat afterwards. Plus, she knew the comfiest chair or seat or the top of something to snooze in or to watch the goings on in the house.
For an old cat, Noche was truly acrobatic, too. She provided me with unforeseen entertainment very often, as well as lessons on how to live. Her sudden bursts of energy, dramatic pounces, her peculiar fascination with the TV reminded me not to take anything too seriously. She also knew almost instinctively my sorrows and joys, and offered me her healing presence or playfulness.
Having Noche with me meant a journey filled with soft paws, mesmerizing stares, a soothing, quiet symphony of purrs, and our moments of special connection. She wove her magic into my life, giving it another very important meaning. A meaning that still stays with me after she's gone.
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