A Catnine Moment Poem by Alexandre Nodopaka

Years ago when both were still alive they used to snuggle
at our bedtime by my feet. Back to back they finally fell
asleep at peace. Nothing like during the day when they would
void contact except for Maddie, my Chihuahua that always
barked when Romeow came sniffing too close.

By definition the Chich was a lapdog. Sleep was her preferred
entertainment. She would become alive only at my exaggerated
gesture pointing to the door. She then was young enough to jump
off the couch and when older scoot down the 4-step fleece
covered ladder. Her tail wagging mad and her gaze still bright

as later in her years somewhat opaque. Communication between
us was signing. She was deaf but not dumb. She used that
squealing sound peculiar to dogs with her condition only when
we would accidentally overlook her time to go outside as I would
not accept a sand box inside.

Her barking was not unlike the sound of deaf people speaking.
And then time came of her passing. All her life she was afflicted
with a heart condition and periodic epileptic seizures and breathing
allergies interspersed with pulmonary rumblings we minded only
by holding and caressing her with special attention at those moments.

Now she rests in the flower garden outside our bedroom window
in a repoussé copper planter topped with artificial flowers amidst
white granite pebbles a sign of her permanent presence
in her silent private Eden.