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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 #1097347 added September 14, 2025 at 1:42pm
Restrictions: None
Me and the Animals
Prompt: Favorite Animals
"Some people talk to animals. Not many listen though. That’s the problem."
A.A. Milne
Which animals are your favorites? Write about your relationship to all animals and if there is or was a special animal in your life.
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All animals are my favorites. This includes wild anything, fish, sea animals, spiders, snakes or bugs; although I am also somewhat cautious with wildlife. After all, I raised and tamed two wild boys.
As to talking to the animals, my older son and I do talk to them. We may sometimes shock the other people in the area, but it is what it is. Do we get a reply in return? Not always, not with the animals that are not pets.
Once, my son and I were taking a walk. He waved at a wild bird, a white egret, and said, "Hey, how are you doing?" Just then, a couple, my neighbors, were coming from the opposite direction and they thought he addressed them. And they stopped to talk to us. Luckily, the bird flew away without giving us in.
Also, inside our enclosed porch, live salamanders and frogs, and with them, I get along just fine. Even when we leave the porch doors open, they don't go out, because outside is dangerous for them with the local and migrating birds who use the golf course at the back of the house as their wayside motel.
After all, there were many special animals in my life, one or two dogs and several cats. My uncle and aunt had a dog, and Irish Setter, named Rocky, when I was in my teens. His dog and I made best friends. When my uncle was transferred to another city, they called us often. And when I took the receiver, my aunt would tell Rocky that I was on the phone and Rocky would come and bark into the receiver. They said he got very excited afterwards and ran around in circles in their apartment.
Then, when our sons were little, we adopted a Newfoundland puppy, Joe. So I became Joe's shelter from anything negative. If there was thunder outside he would stick his body in between my legs and whimper. This was when he had grown into the size of a small pony. Imagine me walking around the house, trying to do housework with Joe around when he was troubled! Joe also became best friends with our two sons, but it was the older son--who, like me, talked to the animals--that he followed around more.
My favorite animals, though, if I have to choose, are cats. For one thing, each cat has a different personality, and even when a cat acts aloof, he or she isn't. In fact, cats are very sensitive to human emotions. A tabby we had while I was in my late teens, jumped on a table, which he wasn't supposed to jump on, and started to lick my tears away when my mother got sick and was having difficulty breathing.
Then, my last black cat, Noche, although she was not wanted by anyone for being so quirky, was probably the most sensitive one to my feelings. She used to talk in her sleep and she always replied to me when I talked to her, and sometimes, she even started a meowing conversation, herself. Unfortunately, she passed away at 16 last year. She was my last pet-friend, and there won't be any, after this, due to my age. So, I have to count my blessings for the salamanders and frogs and an occasional spider in the porch area of the house.
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