‘The Story of Charlie’ (A Pet Poem)

My handsome chap of a pet cat, Charlie 🙂

So a little while ago I wrote a poem about how myself and my partner came to own our now beloved pet cat, Charlie (all quite by chance – he really did literally find us), and I would like to share it with you all in this post 🙂 He can be a cheeky little troublemaker at times, but we both love him – and I found myself getting quite emotional as I was writing this, truth be told! Has anyone else ever been inspired to write about a beloved pet of theirs? Would love to see any other poems about pussy cats, pooches or otherwise 🙂

It’s quite a long one, so enjoy after the jump 🙂

The Story of Charlie

It was quite the chance encounter
When you chose us on that day,
We were simply walking home
And then saw you sat on the wall,
You meowed with your now familiar call,
And scurried to us for strokes and fussing over,
We were both smitten right there and then,
Admiring your warm, handsome face
And shining coat of white splashed with ginger,
Lamenting that we couldn’t take you home,
Until we saw a smiling figure at the window
Who then appeared beaming at the door.

The local cat lady, as it then transpired
To whom you were merely a daily visitor
Than a full-blown live-in feline,
She’d spotted you as a wandering stray
And offered you her ample stock
Of kitty cuisine and assorted treats,
But could not bestow the label of pet
Due to her brutish, older furry boys
Who bullied you with hisses and scratches,
Confining you to only the kitchen
In a big, old and sprawling house
Just begging for cat’s claws to scamper about in.

She had beckoned us in out of the hope
That we might just take you in,
Noticing that shared rapport and affection
That sealed this spontaneous connection.
You’d been her furry guest for years,
We were soon told, and ‘six or seven’
Was your age, or so she reckoned,
We were assured you’d had the ‘snip’
In the midst of this frantic sales pitch,
Well, in fairness she said she’d give you away
To the right, decent sort of people,
Which I suppose to her, it seemed we were.

We were both somewhat taken aback
And a little bit lost for words,
We’d wanted a cat for years;
Creating hypothetical kitties in our heads,
Complete with whimsically crafted names
And colours and characteristics in mind;
Now one was being practically handed to us,
And all we could muster were hesitant ‘maybes’
With a promise we’d go home to think it over,
Though in truth, I think we both knew the answer.
We nonetheless postponed a final word till tomorrow
And bade you farewell with tickles and belly rubs.

So after a little chat together that night,
We decided we had to have you,
If you’d have us as well, of course;
Everyone knows that once a cat moves in,
You’re the one living with them,
Rather than them living with you.
And so back we went to Cat Lady’s abode
To return with a decisive yes
In answer to this unexpected offer
Of a lovable, furry white-ginger lump
With his wide, hypnotising eyes
Full of hope of finding a loving home.

She clapped her hands at this in glee,
And revealed that she’d christened you ‘Mr. Cheeky’,
Also, that you weren’t the cleverest cat she’d seen,
‘He hasn’t passed all of his GCSE’s’
Was how she’d put it, ever so delicately.
Despite this we were not deterred,
We didn’t mind if you weren’t too bright,
But agreed we’d have to draw the line
At calling you a name like that,
Because there was no way in hell
Either man was going to holler
‘Mr. Cheeky, dinner!’ out that back door.

The neighbours might think it was a kinky thing,
Our precious little pet names for each other
Laced with some scandalous meaning.
No, we’d decided you were a ‘Charlie’,
As you just looked like a Charlie to us,
And we’d be willing to compromise
By occasionally using the moniker
Of ‘Cheeky Charlie’, that seemed fair,
Little did we know from meeting you then
With those wide and innocent eyes
That you’d live up to it quite so well,
But that was just one more thing to adore.

She’d had a little kitty starter kit ready to go,
Little meaty pouches, a full sack of litter,
Balls to claw at, a sneaky dash of nip,
A towering scratching post all to yourself
(Although as we later found, this was ignored
In favour of scraping curtains and bed-posts instead),
And even the cage to carry you home in.
Perhaps she’d been awaiting this day for a while,
With your parting gifts waiting on stand-by,
Well, we certainly weren’t ones to complain,
Being mugs on barely above minimum wage,
We’d gladly accept all the kitty freebies we could take.

You looked a little confused
As you scurried into that tiny box
But chose to trust us anyway,
As she said a tearful goodbye
And asked us to give the love you deserved,
Of course we would, we said
After all, it’s not every day
That a cat picks you out of the crowd.
We clutched you tight and carried you home,
Armed with our hoard of feline staples and treats alike,
Excited to have you as a companion
During those lonely opposite-shift nights.

As we let you loose on the laminate floor,
Your eyes were now widened in worry,
Suddenly unsure of our intentions
As you warily sniffed each crevice and section.
There were a few would-be escape attempts,
With paws scrambling for the front door,
But soon you calmed as you slowly realised
That we truly meant you no harm,
And that this was now your home,
Yours and all to explore,
Not simply relegated to the kitchen,
A freedom you had not known before.

And once settled in acceptance of us,
It was all snuggles and cuddles from there,
We’d honestly had never, ever known
A puss as quite as affectionate as you.
You purred loudly in approval
At each and every stroke and scratch,
Sometimes forgetting your sharp claws
As you sleepily dug them right into our laps,
But we both knew they were stabs of love.
We began to wonder if in your furry little head
You thought you were an excitable dog
When welcoming us home each time.

So despite the odd naughty little bite,
And your long, droning meows
That sound like the ungodly wailings
Of some lost, daft old woman,
And your other cheeky little tricks,
We still love you all the same,
And smile when you come scampering in
For your morning strokes and cuddles,
Thankful that we gave this little one a chance
When we met purely by happenstance.
But if fate has laid your furry self into our laps,
Then we count ourselves lucky, our dear Charlie.

Like this poem? Read more in my first poetry collection, ‘The Awakening’, avaliable NOW!

Paperback – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Awakening-Selection-Poems-Stuart-Peacock/dp/1911476335

eBook-: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B017BZBH6M


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