She sights a Bird – she chuckles –
She flattens – then she crawls –
She runs without the look of feet –
Her eyes increase to Balls –
Her Jaws stir – twitching – hungry
Her Teeth can hardly stand –
She leaps, but Robin leaped the first –
Ah, Pussy, of the Sand,
The Hopes so juicy ripening –
You almost bathed your Tongue –
When Bliss disclosed a hundred Toes –
And fled with every one –
– Emily Dickinson
One of my favourite cat-related pieces of art is this famous Russian “lubok” print from the 18th century, which may or may not be a satire of Peter the Great. I’ve loved it since childhood, but thanks to the Ye Olde Russian text I never realised that it is in fact a tad rude. It translates something like:
The Cat of Kazan, mind of Astrakhan, reason of Siberia,
he lived sweet, ate sweet, and farted sweet.
We don’t know who our daddy was,
Don’t know, and we don’t care.
But everyone who sees us says
He must have had red hair!
on a cheek or a chin –
that is the way
for a day to begin!
Sandpaper kisses –
a cuddle, a purr.
I have an alarm clock
that’s covered in fur.
– Bobbi Katz