, , , , , , , , ,

The poetical rat reads a defense of pet poesy

Oh, how I do hate pet poetry. Pet poems tend to go down like vast mouthfuls of granulated sugar that must be swallowed in one go. Bleh. That “Rainbow Bridge” thing makes me want to toss up every time I run across it, which is every time I go to a vet’s office anywhere in the United States. Pet poetry = gag me with a spoon. Even T. S. Eliot’s pet poems sucked the great wazoo. I mean really–have you sat through a production of “Cats” as an adult? Lord Jesus take me on up to heaven now, before someone gives me tickets.

But here is a poem on the subject of pet ownership that I rather like, courtesy of the ever-excellent Rat Guide. The cosmic metaphor is a bit much, but the ideas and sentiment are both subtly rendered and satisfactorily profound. Read on, my equally jaded friend:

You Are My World
My small life is in your hands.
Every drop of water I drink, each morsel of food I consume, every
word and touch is delivered by you.
(You are the sun in my sky)

My daily safety is in your hands.
It is you who provides my companions, controls my environment,
determines the quality of my care.
(You are the moon above me)

My entire destiny is in your hands.
I offer in return loyalty, love, companionship, and my complete trust.
It is all I have to give.
(You are the stars that shine down)

Not bad, eh? That’ll make you meditate on whether you’ve been changing the bedding and refreshing the water bottle as often as you ought, won’t it? Well done, Rat Guide poetry editors. Food for thought without a mouthful of sugar. Well done.