Little brother came home from the
hospital to a comfortable wicker
bassinet, intended to be his bed,
where he spent time howling loudly
with pains in his tummy except
when he was in Mum’s arms
in the big baby feeding chair.
As he improved, learned to sleep,
settled down, he was placed
instead in a larger bed – a cot !!
In shocked horror he protested
loudly but to no available for he
inherited his tall father’s genes.
But those tall genes continued to
stretch him, in time he had to
move on. One weekend his parents
sold that cot on TradeMe, put
a bed in his room instead.
At first unhappy he became
reconciled by his bedside book
shelf where he kept his water
bottle for midnight thirsts …
… and his wonderful
fire engine lamp.
Little brother’s beloved sandpit
lay at the front of the house
by his sisters’ playhouse.
But as they grew older, found
other pastimes they kept him
company there less and less.
Mum and Dad agreed to move the
sandpit round the back in sight of
kitchen and living room windows.
One Sunday afternoon they pulled
up the trailer beside the sandpit,
shovelled the sand into it while
little brother, distraught, howled
He could not understand at two
years old when they said they
were moving it round the back.
When they put its frame on the
trailer he sobbed, begged them “Don’t !”
When they piled sand pit toys on
top he was speechless, bereft.
Dad pulled the trailer away
Mum followed with spades
holding little brother’s hand.
Round the back toys were
unloaded, the frame set in place
sand shovelled in, toys replaced.
Little brother’s nose and face were
mopped yet again for one last time.
Then he gazed ecstatically, and
with shrieks of joy began
digging in the wonderful sandpit.
Archibald the tabby cat lived
with Joan in her suburban flat
on a quiet tree lined cul de sac.
He had a cosy bed in the living
room though he often stretched
out on cushions on the couch.
Also fat full cushions on cane
chairs soaked up sun in the
conservatory out of the wind.
Outside trees shaded a pleasant
garden, a terrace took in sun.
Joan went to work every day
leaving Archibald to enjoy
his comfortable surrounding.
One Saturday as Joan swept
her kitchen cleaned her bathroom
vacuumed her lounge and bedroom,
Archibald walked in with a small
black kitten. They looked at the
food bowls in the kitchen, at the
bed in the living room, and the
comfortable couch. Then they
settled to sleep on a conservatory
chair, tightly curled up together.
Joan asked round the local streets,
no one had lost a black kitten.
She only wanted one cat, tried to
give him away, no one wanted him.
Archibald has kept his kitten.