(also posed on alt.cats)

Thank-you to all who responded...it really helped!

Here is a poem I wrote just now:

maybe it was my grandmother's...
maybe i just bought it at a rummage sale...
or maybe it was found in the basement of an apartment i once lived in...
but it was perfect.

just an old, antique plate...
a small one.
i had placed it beneath a potted plant,
(clay pot).

just perfect for the cat.
and i washed it well.
then i washed it again.
and it became the feeding plate for every cat
who's been within these plaster walls...
ever since i got out of the army,
back...
in some other era.

once...
even a guest
(not knowing)
ate from that small plate.
that's the cat's plate, i yelled.
she just laughed and said,
it doesn't matter.

one day i heard the news...
a friend had died.
i looked at the calender and thought...
he didn't even make it 'til spring.
and i looked to my buddy, the cat...
that good old whitecat now in his 18th year...
and we curled up in bed.
my God, how skinny you have grown lately.

it was a week later when i heard the howl...
we rushed him to the vet:
it doesn't look good...
but we should keep him overnight for observation.

we walked home and opened the door.
we already knew the answer.
a friend was doing dishes:
sorry, he said as we looked at the pieces from the broken plate.

whitecat made it 'till spring.