Survivor

For the Prose Pantry at Poets United.  Magaly has chosen the word “stitches” for us to use.

Survivor
“You can be a victim of cancer, or a survivor of cancer. It’s a mindset.” – Dave Pelzer

I should have died from the diagnosis but I did not. Most women do die from ovarian cancer. It mimics other symptoms of other diseases until it is too late. I had a canny doctor who ordered me for a biopsy and a CT scan. It was confirmed – I had ovarian cancer.

The treatments began until finally, surgery was the order for the day. The doctors gutted me like a fish and pulled out all the nasty bits, the parts infected with cancer. My surgeon was also canny and did not do stitches or staples. He used a special biodegradable and biocompatible superglue to seal the surgery closed. No stitches, no staples – I healed cleanly.

I was established in the guest room during my recovery from surgery.  My mother half sarcastically gave me an embroidery kit to work on while on bedrest. I looked at her like she was crazy. “You know my sewing kit consists of duct tape, staples, and safety pins.” She snorted and walked away. My two cats, Pugsley and SamCat the Ripper sniffed at the sewing kit and went down to the foot of the bed to guard me and keep me company. My husband looked at the kit and asked, “Is she serious?”

The embroidery kit was never opened. It was tossed to the side and discovered behind the bed a year later during a massive cleanup. I was determined – no stitches in me and no stitches in a kit.

 


embroidery kit for beginners

Lazy

For Sunday Muse BlogSpot.  Fireblossom is the guest poster today!

Lazy
“In ancient times cat were worshipped as gods. They have not let us forget this.” Terry Pratchett

I am lazy today.
It is hot and humid
And I am lazy.
I might roll over and let you
rub my tummy but…
Then again I might not.
I might just scratch and bite you.
Entice me with cream.
Seduce me with tuna.
My ears go back
and my tail slightly twitches.
I think I will close my eyes now
and sleep.
It is time for you to go away – now.

Haibun: Dr. Samuel Beckett

For Kim’s prompt on Real Toads, Nomenclature, how things get their names. What a fun and lovely prompt!

 

Haibun: Dr. Samuel Becket
“I believe cats to be spirits come to earth. A cat, I am sure, could walk on a cloud without coming through.” Jules Verne

He was tiny, his eyes barely open. He was an orange marmalade tom and he wobbled as he walked about in the box where we had put him to be safe and warm. When one of us would enter the room, we would call softly, Baby! Baby!.and his tiny mews would drift up out of the box. I walked over and looked down at him. He looked up at me with his blue baby eyes and suddenly, he jumped and tried to climb to the top to reach me. I laughed, and reached down and picked him up. Well Sam Beckett, you did a quantum leap, didn’t you? He remained Dr. Samuel Beckett until his life ended 14 years later. I was his human and I loved him dearly.
to me life passed quickly –
to my cat life passed slowly –
too soon our time together ended

*Quantum Leap was a TV show in the 90’s starring Scott Bakula who was a physicist studying string theory.

He Survived

He survived
“What greater gift than the love of a cat?” Charles Dickens

He survived after being thrown away by his person’s heirs
roaming the neighborhood living off stale popcorn and bread thrown out for the birds.
Feral dogs, snow, thirst he fought to live.

I saw him and brought him in and he loved me instantly.
unconditionally through my days of darkness and cancer.
he guarded me and forgave me.

Who would have thought so great a heart would ever stop beating.

The Ugly Hat

For Kerry’s Camera Flash at Real Toads. We are presented with a photo of Jessie Tarbox Beals, on of the first women photojournalists.

The Ugly Hat
Yes I know my hat looks like a cat
all covered with white fuzz.
But I love taking photos of cats.
Mainly long haired beauties of the rich.
I took over 80 photos of cats.
I don’t care for them but they are good subjects.
As long as they behave.
I get well paid for taking photos of cats.
I also get paid well for taking photos
Of shops and tea rooms in Greenwich village.
I am not much of a photojournalist
and the photos of the shops
all have these cutesy little poems at the bottom –
You can find laces and a whole more
At Tom’s Odds and Ends Variety Store!
Not much of a photojournalist
But I am prolific!
Eighty photos of cats –
just like my ugly hat.

Jessie Tarbox Beals
Early woman photojournalist 1904

Little Kitty

For Day 21 of Nanomargarine or whatever…this is for Brendan’s prompt over at Real Toads, 30 in 30.  This is about an animal of myth or legend or as I like to call it, after one of my favorite movies, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.  This is also for Sunday’s Poetry Pantry at Poets United.

Little Kitty
Little kitty,
Do you know you were once worshipped in Egypt
as a goddess?
Did you know you were once considered
the protector of the Pharoah,
that women desiring children
would wear your image around their necks
and that the number of children they wanted
would be represented by the number of kittens
depicted with you?
Did you know as Bastet
you were protector of perfumes,
and medicinal ointments, that you guarded
against contagion and evil spirits and vermine?
In the personification of Bast
you were depicted as a hunting lioness –
the most powerful hunter in Egypt?
As Bast and Bastet you brought together
the Upper and Lower Kingdoms of Egypt?
Little kitty,
I would like to dress you in gold jewelry
and let you eat off my plate
and wander at will and have people
bow to you, to have you as the wife of Anubis,
help with preparing my body with burial
and guiding me over the spirit river
to eternal life.
Little kitty who’s name was Belle
and is now entombed in a shoe box
and wrapped in my Duke tee shirt
your grave marked by lilies of the valley
and a double delight rose.
Little kitty, keeper of my heart and
Protector of my soul…

British Museum

The Secret Life of Cats

for Hedge’s 55

The Secret Life of Cats
I once had a tabby and white cat,
Miss Boot –
I’d come home from work and find my
dressing table looking pilfered.
A puzzle.
One day I came home early.
in the middle of the table
sat Miss Boot, my pearls around her neck
and blush on her cheeks.
Well, that mystery was solved.

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