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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

A poem about a cat named Tabby

We had a cat named Tabby, 

She was an outdoor cat.

Lovable, strange, and a little deranged.

After her breed, she was named.


She wandered around the farmhouse.

Always in and out of the barn.

She scratched me when I was young,

Leaving a scar.


We moved into town,

And she came with us,

Her brown eyes big,

As we drove away.


She didn’t wander far, 

From the house in the middle of town.

I’m sure she missed the freedom,

Of the farmhouse.


We moved to a country house,

At the end of a sidewalk.

She had a forest to wander through,

And a bed in the garage.


I still remember her hoarse meow.

She was stumpy, small, and proud.

She didn’t like a crowd,

And she didn’t like to meow.


When my parents moved from the country house, 

They left her there.

She’d grown accustomed to the forest.

She lived out there, breathing in the fresh air.


Not soon after my parents moved,

The new owners told us Tabby had died.

I was left to wonder,

Was it us that kept her alive?

Submitted: May 06, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Conrad Hueston. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


tom mcmullen

I have a tabby and it can't purr! Enjoyed the poem Conrad

Thu, May 7th, 2020 9:28am


Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Thu, May 7th, 2020 8:04am


This was very moving. I've got four outdoor cats, at one time had six. It definitely makes one think!

Thu, May 7th, 2020 7:50pm


I'm glad it resonated with you! Thanks for reading!

Thu, May 7th, 2020 1:02pm

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