So today to mark spring, I put a photo of one of my older daughter's (four) beloved cats climbing around a tree in her back garden.
I'm a lover of women's poetry, a poet of the later 18th into 19th century, critic, writer of children's books, educator, Anna Barbauld, a very great favorite with me, wrote thus to one of her friends of her apparently beloved companion,
To a dog:
Dear faithful object of my tender care,
Whom but my partial eyes none fancy fair;
May I unblamed display thy social mirth,
Thy modest virtues, and domestic worth:
Thou silent, humble flatterer, yet sincere,
More swayed by love than interest or fear;
Solely to please thy most ambitious view,
As lovers fond, and more than lovers true.
Who can resist those dumb beseeching eyes,
Where genuine eloquence persuasive lies?
Those eyes, where language fails, display thy heart
Beyond the pomp of phrase and pride of art.
Thou safe companion, and almost a friend,
Whose kind attachment but with life shall end,-
Blest were mankind if many a prouder name
Could boast thy grateful truth and spotless fame!
This is how I feel about my ClaryCat and IanPussycat too. Maybe someday I'll adopt a puppydog once again. I had dog-companion many years ago.