DEAD BEAT HEART...

WHAT IS IT ABOUT SYLVESTER?

 What is it about Sylvester that everyone adores?
is it his whiskers?
The white on his lip?
or just the way he curls in his paws...

Yes, what is it about this darn little Cat
that's pulling us this way and pulling us that...
Bending us over backwards to please
to rally around him like he's the Bees knees...

What is it about Sylvester that keeps us engaged?
 Is it his non youth his grey hairs, his age
His triangular shape and enormouse big head
that makes us all want him to
sleep on our beds....

Now, what is it about Sylvester that makes our Hearts pound?

His faintest meow, or his soft purring sound...

He makes us all fret at the thought of him leaving ...
He is loved and adored but once he was grieving...

For just two years ago
He was bruised..
A Hobo
 Homeless and dying
A sick sack of bones
That noone would love or let into their homes...

He lived in the cold the Dank and the Dark
Begged food from Mechanics near where the cars  parked
and at night he would seek his refuge in sheds
while other cute moggies curled up on warm beds

Oh! our  little Sylvester he was so polite
 He would never come in,
you would have to invite... 

He was bound to rely on the kindness of strangers,
But all covered in mud  he looked so contagious...
 His fur was as Brillo all matted and worn
and his ear from fighting was blooded and torn..

But when I saw him I knew
That he had to be saved
So gently I coaxed him and fed him and bathed
He was always most grateful...
And never his welcome
would he over stay,
but came for a  little while,
day after day,
to eat and to warm up on his little pink rug
 and then sadly would leave
 and his eyes would cry hug....

(c) Helena C Carta