Mum's Poem
MISSING SHERLOCK
I stroke your paws on the screensaver
and stretch my fingertip to touch the tip of your nose
and recall your soft fur and wet snout, your engine purr
your roll-over-scratch-me,your snake- flick about my feet
your dives through garden-hose-spray,your rocket-leaps after flies
your paw-swings at lupin,your skulks behind flower-pots
your Premier-League-advances across tiled floor in pursuit of belled balls
abandoned beneath beds, couches, cupboards, in places you couldn't reach.
Like you now, beyond my call.
I was found
because Mum and Longfellow leafleted every house on the estate, every telegraph
pole,utility pole,power pole, hydro pole, transmission pole- call them what you like. My image was plastered on every notice board and blank wall they could find. So much so that for weeks after
the event I was still being rescued by the neighbourhood watch brigade who
hadn’t heard of my rescue and were dialling me in well into the summer. I could
hardly take a stroll around the block without being nabbed by some do-gooder.
Even Mum was getting tired of it. That would teach her not to be so officious
with her leafleting. Not only did they leaflet. Red actually knocked on doors
like a saleswoman, canvasser, service provider and set out their dilemma to the
public at large. Nobody as forceful and persuasive in soliciting support as
Red. She would have had her foot and elbow in the door before they could say
Jackrabbit.
The public
at large responded on mass and one day when I was quietly meandering along the
sidewalk minding my own business while on the lookout for a fly, a bird, even a
mouse, a gang of girls beset and besieged me. “It’s him!! It’s definitely him,”
they cooed. At first I felt like a celebrity must do when set upon by the
paparazzi.
“It has to
be him. He’s only got one eye!” Screeches of OMG ensued!
That eye
again. It would be the death of me yet. It did on this instance signal the end
to my mini-break but to be honest I was a bit peckish and had had enough of
that Bear Grylls hunter-gatherer stuff and the girls had a packet that looked like and smelt like
ham and as you know ham is to me what honey is to Winnie-the-Pooh. How could I not
cooperate? I purred and rolled over and all that malarkey until they parted
with it. In a state of consummate bliss while munching on this delicacy I heard them make the call and before
I knew it my lift arrived and there was Mum and Red and the Longfellow weeping with joy at my
return.
And we'll never know how he got across the dual carriageway!
ReplyDeleteIn the dead of the night for sure...
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