Custom Pet Memorial Suncatchers as Thoughtful Holiday Gifts
Custom Suncatchers in Glass or Acrylic
A suncatcher can hang on any window, or a mirror or any place you want to see the image of your beloved animal companion.
And they also make unique customized gifts even when they aren’t in sympathy for a loss.
What recipients have said:
“I have her suncatcher hanging in my kitchen window. I stand there and look at her every morning while I drink my coffee.”
Anonymous recipient, in person
I want to thank you for the very special, beautiful glass ornament suncatcher …It brought a tear to my eye that day and the day I hung it up in the sunlight. You really have a very special talent.
Anonymous recipient, in a letter
Ancient History
I began my design ideas for suncatchers the same way I did with many of my handmade gifts, wanting to see my art on gift items I saw in stores. In the early 90s I bought a 3.25″ x 3.25″ square bevel-edge clear suncatcher with a kitten etched in the center, which I not only liked but found inspiring. I had lots of pencil and ink sketches that would work on things like this. I held that idea all these years knowing I’d want my artwork on that beveled glass somehow, someday.
That etched kitten suncatcher from the early 90s is pretty battered by now.
And like most of my memorial gift items, my suncatchers began as personal gifts for friends who’d lost their animal companions. Using the standards I’d set up to create the images on my Custom Pet Memorial Votives I was ready to make good on that suncatcher idea.
Scroll down to read through information about each suncatcher
(I do seem to have a lot of gab around each of the products. I’m including customer feedback and results and experiences with customers at my vendor events and from sales in general to help you decide, especially if you are ordering a gift for someone else.)
I began with thick 5″ glass circles with a deep beveled edge, your animal companion’s image in the center, so that sun could shine through the bevel and refract light into rainbows.
Tuna, a 5″ beveled glass suncatcher.
Some customers asked for a less fragile item, and for those I use a 6″ clear acrylic circle with a slightly rounded edge. The extra inch of space, plus the lack of a bevel, allows more space for display and works well for multiple subjects, larger dogs, and even a full cat, not just the face. The acrylic costs less than glass, and shipping is a little less because it’s lighter, so it’s a little less expensive too.
Henry, a 6″ acrylic suncatcher.
I still wanted the square shape, though, partly to see my original idea, and to offer an alternative shape, and because not all images fit well in a circle.
The company I buy from has 4″ squares which would seem to have less presentation space than the 5″ circle so I debated, then bought some to work with. The outside dimension is smaller but the corners allow the image to be almost as large as the circle. Below is the square, modeled by Buckwheat, whose portrait I painted years ago and whose person encouraged me to use his image.
4″ square beveled glass pet memorial suncatcher.
I had another idea, of course…the company also carried a graceful arch-top rectangle I’d wanted to try but found they wouldn’t be carrying it after current inventory ran out.
I had been looking at their 3″ x 5″ rectangle and also debated because it’s a difficult shape to fit, but when the company suggested that shape as an alternative—all their customer service people use all their products so you get the best real advice—I decided to go with it.
The first time I offered one at the Blessing of the Animals that vertical rectangle was an instant hit and I had several orders. At one of my vendor events this summer a mother ordered two for her daughter to depict her daughter’s beloved hounds, growing older now, and both in upright sitting positions. Both dogs looked marvelous with the image focusing entirely on their tall, graceful sitting posture.
The image area on this shape is 2.25″ x 4.25″. This suncatcher is modeled by Pixie, a beloved rescue kitty of a friend in rescue who’s been the recipient of just about all my new ideas; there’s a lot of loss in rescue.
Pixie, a 3″ x 5″ beveled rectangle glass suncatcher.
Thoughtful Holiday Gifts
The rectangle and square are just as popular as the original circle and all make thoughtful holiday gifts whether as a memorial or for the person who loves to see their pet on everything.
Standard with each suncatcher
I use my skills as an artist in traditional media and on computer to remove backgrounds, touch up lighting and composition, and add a background color or pattern that complements the subject (see Choosing a Photo…).
A sympathy card is also included. The one shown below is available with every suncatcher. You can visit my page of Animal Sympathy Cards to see a selection of others. If I am to ship directly to the recipient you can give me a note which I will write inside the card.
Love Never Ends note card
The price includes shipping, whether to you or your recipient, or if you are an animal professional to your practice or drop-shipped to your client, within the continental US. I have rates for international shipping.
I include a care and use card with each suncatcher. This card has a link to this website.
Little extras
Adding an extra subject, a special background pattern like a favorite blanket or chair are extra, usually no more than $10 per addition. Adding a name or other brief text is optional and is included.
Suncatchers are kept in confidence
I photograph each Suncatcher I make for my records and to keep the details of what it looked like for my reference. I never use a custom memorial item in any public venue, whether for display or self-promotion, without permission of both the giver and the recipient.
Order a Custom Suncatcher
Visit Suncatchers to order your thoughtful holiday gifts. As I mention above with the notecard, if your suncatcher is a gift for someone else I can ship it to them with a note from you.
All images and content are copyrighted and may not be used or reproduced in any way without my written permission. Please contact me if you are interested in using any of my content.
I regularly write about my personal experience of the losses of my own cats on my website The Creative Cat. That includes Mr. Sunshine who once stood on this fence and sniffed this flower pinwheel on a day he was feeling great, a few months before he died on March 1, 2024.
This post is an entry in my series “Attachments” on www.TheCreativeCat.net about the things with which we develop attachments because they have something, however distantly connected, with the life and loss of one of our animal companions.
I first published this post on The Creative Cat on October 12, 2025.
Last Wednesday morning I looked once again at the increasingly tattered state of “Mr. Sunshine’s flower,” the flower pinwheel on the picket fence by the garden that I associate with him. A sweet breezy morning would normally have the flower spinning madly, instead it had a number of false starts before it actually began to spin. Still, the flower brought back the memory of that magic October afternoon in 2023 when Mimi had hopped up on the fence in the sun, then Mr. Sunshine and Giuseppe followed. I took a series of photos and brief videos, but one of the photos was immediately a forever memory, its brilliance still held in this ragged nylon and wire pinwheel flower, the memory always warming my heart and making me smile. You can see the cat in the middle, Mr. Sunshine, blissfully sniffing the flower pinwheel. He was so cool.
Mimi, Mr. Sunshine and Giuseppe on the pallet and fence on a gorgeous October afternoon.
And a respite in the line of losses; we had already lost their siblings/daughter Mewsette and Jelly Bean in June and July, and this was shortly before the symptoms of Giuseppe’s meningioma started neurological symptoms and we’d lose him a little less than two months later, Mr. Sunshine would join them the following March, and their mother Mimi the following August. But this one perfect October afternoon all were well and happy, playing in the sun, exploring in the shade, enjoying their time out here.
The flower had survived since 2022, outside the entire time, but on this day a twinge of sadness mingled with the joy knowing the flower wouldn’t last much longer before all the petals were tattered and it stood, still, in its place on the fence. The word “metaphor” came to mind followed slowly by “memories” as I thought about all the times I’d looked at that flower, checked to see it was still there, stopped to watch it spinning, feeling Mr. Sunshine’s presence and visualizing him in image after image, but always knowing it wouldn’t last forever, and how the flower’s decline in many ways was a metaphor for his.
This essay began writing itself in my head and even as I began to open the notes app on my phone to use voice to text to record my thoughts as I often do now I was headed into the house and just went right to my computer and began writing. When it was finished I decided to record it and make an accompanying video and title the whole project, “Metaphors and Memories” which is linked immediately below, and the essay itself below the video. It’s been a while since I’ve had the time, the focus and presence of mind to be able to produce one of these little videos, but I knew it was just as important for my own healing that I take the time for that creative effort. I hope that in any way it’s helpful to you too.
Metaphors and Memories
The essay
This breezy, sunny, post-rain morning in the garden I noticed that Mr. Sunshine’s pinwheel flower was having a little trouble starting to spin.
For nearly two years since that wonderful photo of him and Mimi and Giuseppe on the fence where he is coolly sniffing the flower in the sun and color of October, that flower, tied to the fence post where it can always be seen and catch the breeze, has been spinning at the slightest provocation, and I feel Mr. Sunshine near me. It has always had a little regular squeak when it spins and when I was indoors at my desk, even at night with the windows open, I could hear that squeak and smiled to think of Mr. Sunshine out there, doing his thing. The flower had become one of my “attachments,” those inanimate objects I come to associate with cats I’ve lost so that the things become precious to me as a stand-in for the feline I’m missing.
But as with all things in my garden and in life, someday the flower will slow down, falter, and then, eventually, stop, just as Mr. Sunshine did after two years of holding off the cancerous masses in his abdomen so he could support each of his siblings in their last steps and get every last moment due to him in this life.
This once-colorful flower now has a fourth tattered petal which is probably why it doesn’t catch the breeze as well as it has, even recently. In September 2024, about six months after he’d left us, one of the petals was ripped through and it wouldn’t spin for missing that resistance to the breeze. I had a second flower that had gotten pretty tattered in its first summer and winter so I put it into one of my planters where it could be colorful even if it didn’t spin. I pulled one of the petals from that flower to replace the damaged one on Mr. Sunshine’s flower.
For a few days after a windy, icy storm in January 2025 it was lost under ice and snow, only the plastic stake that held it left tied to the fence; I was bereft and a little panicked. But I saw a scrap of color when the snow began to melt a few days later and revived it, slipping it back on the stick and replacing yet another petal.
By early spring I regularly found the flower on the brick path between the garden beds at an angle that told me it was blown off and landed face down. When I slipped it back on I could see that the center of the flower that gripped the spike it spun on had worn out and no longer tightly gripped it. I slipped a bit of a broken plastic knife I used as a plant marker into the tip of the post that it spun on and that has held it in place through storms and bird landings since then.
But four petals have tears in them, and I have no more petals to replace the one that no longer catches the breeze. I no longer hear that endearing little squeak. I know the time will come when the flower will cease to be able to perform its task of colorful entertainment in the garden and memory for me. But my intention with everything that goes into my garden is to love and support it while it lives out its natural life. Life is a cycle, the vegetables I plant, the bricks I pick up free from others who no longer need them, even the wood of the raised beds and plant stakes, untreated, it eventually breaks down and becomes part of the soil.
The metaphor matches Mr. Sunshine’s journey, and mine with him. He put everything into continuing life, and I found working treatments as palliative care, both of us working together, until life was no longer sustainable and he joined his siblings in their next life.
As with Mr. Sunshine, I will no more keep that flower beyond its abilities nor hasten its demise than I did with Mr. Sunshine. Knowing me and my attachments, when too many of the petals are ripped and the flower no longer spins at all, I will move it to a safe space to hold as a vessel for memory until such time as I no longer feel that connection with Mr. Sunshine through the flower.
And a note from “The Creative Cat” where I originally published this essay, and where I write about pet loss just about every Sunday…
Thank you for following our grief journey after losing seven members of our feline family.
I hope sharing our experiences have helped you in some way, as sharing my experiences with you helps me.
You can read all the articles related to their losses by tapping one of the images here, in the side bar or in articles about pet loww. You can also read all my articles about my own losses in the category “Pet Loss in the First Person”
All images and content are copyrighted and may not be used or reproduced in any way without my written permission. Please contact me if you are interested in using any of my content.
Working with your supplied photo or artwork, I use my decades of pet portraiture on paper and canvas and my Photoshop skills to prepare the image to fit the votive. I remove background distractions and correct distortions if necessary, and add a color or gentle pattern that suits your pet, pulling ideas from the supplied photos.
Sometimes a custom background is part of the design, either the background in the provided photo, another scenic background, or a pattern. Pearl loved sleeping on the patterned porch chair and it was in the photo I used, enough of it to be able to trim sections out of the provided photo and blend the sections together in a continuous pattern. I placed Pearl on top of the pattern with the section of it that was under her face included with her. Below are views of each side and the back.
And here is what the votive looks like when the candle is lit.
Pearl’s votive lighted front.
Pearl’s votive lighted back.
Customizations cost $10.00 extra for a specific background, another subject, or text, like a name and dates, or a tribute incorporated into the design. You’ll find these listed as “Extra Services” in the drop-downs when you order, but you can check with me before you order if you have questions.
The sample votive you see here was ordered by one friend to give to another, and both parties gave me permission to share the images. I never use any image of a custom item without permission.
Gypsy was just about to turn 21 when I met her, and the challenge was for her human to choose one position out of all those years of companionship by which to represent her. She chose Gypsy’s favorite nap spot, right where the sheers come together at the sliding glass door, holding one side of the sheers open so she could glance outside now and then. She had no pictures of this position, and of course Gypsy did not cooperate by posing, so we pieced it together with other pictures of Gypsy plus a picture of a pillow placed in this spot behind the curtains.
At the time my oldest cat was 15, but I know now that when you live with a cat this long, or any animal or person, they tend to find a fixed place in your memory at a certain time in their life, and when you think of them, that place in time is the face, posture, even time of day and season you visualize. Longer-lived loved ones may change their place as time goes on, but we always have that moment to reference. So it was with Gypsy, and we decided to soften the signs of her age, the deep-set eyes in a gaunt face, slightly matted fur, apparent stiffness and brought her back a few years into her teens or maybe a few years younger.
Detail of Gypsy.
I remember working very hard to get Gypsy’s calico spots, and how they all blended together, correct, and going back and forth over the edges until it looked like fur and not just stray lines, and the little area on her hip where her fur parted with the curve of her body.
After she lost Gypsy to a brain tumor not long after we finished, her companion told me that she had hung the portrait by the door and every morning she said goodbye to the portrait and greeted Gypsy every day when she came home. A couple of years later as she battled breast cancer Gypsy’s presence in her portrait was important to her healing. I was glad to know that something I had done had brought comfort to someone in time of need.
A quiet favorite
Gypsy’s portrait has always quietly been one of my favorites. The pretty calico, the simple scene, the typical feline habit, were all just so real to me right then, and through the years I honored this by including her portrait in my brochure and using little thumbnails of her image as navigation buttons and welcome images on various versions of my websites, knowing other people would like Gypsy too. This is one of the older portraits for which I only have basic photos for, and sadly I can’t find Gypsy’s companion to catch up on the news and photograph her portrait again. But I’m so glad to have preserved a moment for Gypsy and her person, and for the lesson I learned about finding a place in time to remember.
This portrait is painted with my first set of Rembrandt soft pastels and Conté pastel pencils on Canson mi-tientes paper, on the smooth side. Looking back on it, I don’t know how I managed to capture the level of detail but I guess visualizing your finished piece helps give you a goal in figuring out how to make what’s on your paper look like what’s in your head!
More about Custom Commissioned Portraits
Visit the Portraits page here on Custom Pet Memorial Votives.
See all posts about Custom Commissioned Portraits.
If you’d like to read more about artwork as I develop it, about my current portraits and art assignments and even historic portraits and paintings, I feature commissioned portrait or other piece of artwork on Wednesday. I also feature artwork which has not been commissioned, especially my paintings of my own cats. Choose the categories featured artwork.
I regularly write about my personal experience of the losses of my own cats on my website The Creative Cat. That includes Basil with the big round eyes and the scary vegetables behind him who I lost in December 2024. I publish daily photos there just about every day and in each post include photos from that day in previous years, sometimes all the way back to 2009, when I started The Creative Cat.
This essay is about the experience of scrolling through months and years and decades of photos of my family of felines in one of those posts, always an emotional experience but, “Now, as I scroll down any daily photo post, I hear the echoes of the lives we lived, the literal sounds and also the movements, the interactions and emotions, and I’m grateful and joyful that they all shared my life. The photos come to life and move with the memories…”
I’m making some marinara today, and all alone in the kitchen. A couple of years ago I was never alone! Basil was always a kitchen cat, and even after we lost the siblings and then Mimi, he was still there, probably feeling as alone as I was after the usual kitchen full of all the cats we loved. He would sit on the cabinet or the table with those big eyes, always a little bit of doubt in his expression, as if he might not belong, or I might not love him and pay attention to him.
On the contrary, he got it all. We had some wonderful bonding moments then, lots of affection and kisses. I was grateful each time for the distraction from my own thoughts. And each time, I gave Basil lots of praise for overcoming his doubts and asking for what he wanted. He was so brave. Whatever had planted that doubt in him, each time it came up it was a struggle that I could even see happening, but every time he overcame it. I will always be so grateful for deciding, instead of wanting to leave my bathroom open after steadily fostering in there because it was easier for me in my studio, to instead say I’d take the 14-week-old kitten on the shelter kill list for “bad temperament,” in 2014. Not just for saving his life, but so that we could end up sharing a life. I know Basil loved and trusted me, as I did him, and the thought of his trust, trust in me, still makes my heart swell with love.
I’ve been missing him a lot. Not just because he was my most recent loss. I could almost understand each of the siblings’ passings, and I had actually been grieving Mimi in advance for a few years. Basil walked the line between friendly and feral, between Mimi and the siblings’ overwhelmingly social purrsonalities and the more cautious Bella, Hamlet, Mariposa and even Sienna. He was the last of the cats who moved around the house with me, who was always ready for love, and I knew, and he knew, that our future had him moving to the lead position in our feline family, and he was already learning to put his fears aside and actually be the greeting cat of the household.
And then he was ill, and then he was gone. Neither of us was ready. I had dropped everything in October, garden, house, working on my websites, even cooking some days, and spent all my time with him in those last two months. But not even that would ever be enough.
The kitchen is where I still find him now, I feel him sitting on the cabinet behind me, waiting for a taste of whatever, or on the table, waiting for pets. I don’t look to see he’s not there in body. Even though sometimes it makes me profoundly sad, I picture him as he would be in that moment, in the now, if he was here in more than spirit.
My websites were offline during the entire time he was experiencing his illness, and I almost feel as if I was silenced by some malevolent spirit because here is where I’ve always brought my grief in my feline losses. Sharing on social networks was not the same. But some time this year, possibly autumn, to track and follow the course of his illness in a series of posts, I’ll share his story.
About this photo
Those scary fruits and vegetables!
This photo is so Basil it just wipes away all my tears. When I took the photo I had no idea how our future would turn, but in this moment I was planning on loving Basil in life for the next decade, or more. I will go with that plan, and enjoy all the silly photos of him, some of which I took while he was pretty seriously ill.
Here’s what I said about it last year:
Basil is a little fearful, and just lately the presence of fruits and vegetables behind him seemingly no matter where he goes has really been making him uneasy. Where did they come from all of a sudden? And why? And why can’t he get away from them? What might be their ulterior motive?
Basil is clearly overthinking this. Really, he’s just been sleeping on the table each day and that’s a new habit. The fruits and vegetables, though not always the same ones, are there all the time. But there is no convincing Basil, only constantly reassuring him with pets and kisses.
Sometimes I think he’s manipulating me. Purrhaps Mariposa has taught him a few new things.
And photos from previous years too
Now, as I scroll down any daily photo post, I hear the echoes of the lives we lived, the literal sounds and also the movements, the interactions and emotions, and I’m grateful and joyful that they all shared my life. The photos come to life and move with the memories. To see the five of them together, growing younger as I scroll down, Basil becomes a kitten again! Birds yelling at Mewsette, Jelly Bean in a box, Mimi in the rhododendron in 32 different views, Mary petting all four of them at once, Mariposa climbing the screen door, cantaloupe?! Giuseppe talking, Sunshine in a bag in a bag, wow, so much to remember and love. Share that with me.
Below, lots of happy memories from previous years! Look at those five just below!
From around this date in past years
All Lined Up, 2022
All lined up and waiting for lunch.
It’s been a while since this wonderful family lined up for a meal. This was once a daily occurrence and I’m thrilled to see them do it again today! Wish I’d had my better camera, but this will do.
I let each cat, fosters and all, choose where in the kitchen they want to eat. When these were all younger, after we lost our tortie girls in 2012 and before so many fosters came along, they lined up just like this daily.
Now each of them gets a mid-day meal and a chance at the food puzzle, but they don’t always eat at the same time. I’ll have to try to remember the magic from today.
Mimi chose some genetically advantaged boy cats to create this group. That was before her time with me. Can you see similarities between her facial features and each of her “kittens’ ” features?
Below: lunchtime!!
Lunchtime for all!
~~~
From Instagram
Hearing the word CAT!! in every bird language from all the trees around the backyard as Mewsette quietly strolls on a sunny Saturday morning having no idea of her impact.
Outdoor Studio. Girls are inspecting my set up as I make a few more Scratch Your Claws Here cat mats for the Carnegie spring market tomorrow afternoon! They’ll have to settle down before I get out the paint. Hope these things are dry by tomorrow!
This week’s #boxpawty — Jelly Bean tries to fit himself into the (recycled) box I’m getting ready to ship with a customer’s order, he decided he wanted to go and visit his housepanther cousins from New Jersey, and have a vacation on Cape May! Now that takes paw-lanning!
From around this date in past years
Pretty in Pink, 2021
Mimi makes the scene.
Mimi liked the rhododendron so much this year that she willingly posed around it, unlike last year when I couldn’t get her to get near it when I had my camera—in fact, you can even see last year’s non-event below. She even had a little routine of posing and interacting with the blossoms. Above, she gazes tranquilly at the flowers. Below, she gets a good whiff of them!
She gets a good whiff of the blossoms.
The bush was especially lovely this year, with even more blossoms than last year. I did a little judicious trimming, and this is the third year since the maple trees are gone, and Rhody is feeling good. Mimi chooses one more pose with the rhododendron and forget-me-not flowers.
A classic pose with rhododendrons and forget-me-nots.
I took these at the end of May when I was about to move the cats to the farm, so I didn’t have the chance to share them before now—along with a number of other photos! But Mimi deserves her due for the inspiring photo shoot we had. When she’s done, she marks it in particular cat style, with a thorough and extended face rub on the edge of the porch.
She marks the spot with a thorough, extended face rub.
I think Mimi had a good idea for waiting, though, because the fallen blossoms added to the beauty of the scene. I don’t remember the fallen blossoms making that much of a show in the past, but Mimi made the most of them all around her tiny paws. When it was all done, she settled down on the edge of the porch with the angry rabbit to gaze upon her little paradise.
Then she rests to survey her paradise.
~~~
From Instagram
It’s a hot one out there! Keep yourself and your kitties cool, put a few ice cubes in everyone’s water, and find a nice geranium to provide some shade.
The #housepanther receiving line for guests to our house. Aunt Mary stopped by today, a favorite because she brings some of their favorite food. They know her as soon as she walks in the door.
From around this date in past years
Through the Magic Rhododendron Portal, 2020
One of the things I love about living with cats is watching them explore new things in their environment in minute detail, then find a way to occupy it and own it, whether it’s a box, cat tree, new piece of furniture, or a small section of the yard, especially for Mimi. Once my niece and I removed the ivy that was covering the entire front yard last year (well, she did all that!), we spread plastic and wood chips from the trees I’d had cut down and my original rock garden with a few short stone walls in a couple of places was visible again. I remembered building all that the spring after I’d moved in here and was happy to see the structure I’d set up once again ready for growing things. And for felines!
Mimi was ready to explore. Another wall to use as a catwalk! And curl up for naps on sun-warmed stones, even in May. These photos were taken on May 10 and 13 as Mimi acquainted herself with the wall and walked beneath the portal (rhododendron) to the “other side”.
That was a totally cool experience. And that rock she’s standing on? It’s so nice and warm under her paws…it was in the sun all afternoon…so of course it was the purrfect spot for a little feline enjoyment. First to mark the stones as belonging to Mimi.
And then a little bath…
…and then a nap with lots of toe stretching and head turning upside down.
We’ve revisited the wall regularly since then, and I’ve tried so hard, alas, in vain, to get a good photo of Mimi exiting the portal on the wall. But these minute little happinesses are so important to cats. I know they are part of what makes Mimi content each day and ensures her continued physical and behavioral health. And mine too, as I follow her around with my camera searching for the best way to interpret her pose. I can’t be as free when we’re out in the front yard because I need to keep a close eye on her and on our surroundings, but it’s worth missing a photo now and then to ensure her safety.
I’ve been enjoying my Mimi Monday posts and sharing all these photos of her I take outdoors. Let me know what you think!
~~~
Yes, I’ve been MIA for over a week, even for those of you who follow me on Instagram and other social media! Several things came together at once and needed my time before the end of June. I wanted to relieve the strain on my eyes until my new glasses are ready (July 1!) and stay away from posting long enough to get the other projects done and get back to posting regularly. I’d actually intended to share that I’d be “away” for a few days but even ran out of time for that. I always miss posting, and I’m always glad when I can come back to The Creative Cat.
~~~
From Instagram, last week to Monday
June 20
Boys are trying to like cantaloupe, because that’s what I’m eating. I’m trying to get to know my new cellphone, because my old old one could not update past android 5 and had to be replaced. What better way than to photograph my cats? It’s a win-win. The cantaloupe was a no-go, though.
Really? You eat this stuff?
My new phone fits a lot more apps too. Camera is good, but nothing is like my DSLR. Still going to be fun.
Mariposa is feeling this purrfect summer morning.
June 22
The Four Housecats of the Apocalypse are planning my day because they are coming to work with me today. Wait, how is that any different…
June 24
Yeah, my hair’s doing something pretty fantastic this morning, isn’t it?
Whisker Wednesday at the window. Mariposa just generally has a lot of hair, something we have in common on humid mornings.
Mr. Sunshine is having a great morning. He’s in a bag, in a bag!
Don’t worry, one side of each handle is pulled loose.
June 29
I’m sorry I opened the refrigerator door overnight.
I still get my breakfast though, right?
From around this date in past years
Now That’s a Nap, 2019
Basil’s good nap.
That little row of teeny teeth and then the FANGS. Basil is a purrfessional at napping in interesting positions. He always starts out in pretty normal positions, then at some point he lets it all hang out.
From Instagram
It’s the pre-breakfast wrestling match to enhance the appetite. It’s how they work off their excitement while I prepare 10 bowls of food. Mariposa wriggles across the floor on her back under Jelly Bean’s face and boxes his nose with those big white mittens until he engages. If she doesn’t, he starts vigorously licking her face and before long they are wrestling all over the floor. Kitty communication is a very interesting process!
A year ago I had trapped Mariposa as an adult along with a colony of feral cats at an abandoned house and she began her journey to socialization. All other adults went to a friend’s farm. Mariposa was clearly related but somehow let me know she wasn’t like them. She is very pleased to be a socialized cat with her own house and a human she can manipulate and a family of felines who love her despite her odd coloring 😉.
Bean and Mariposa in the morning.
Photos shared in past years
Some Good Naps, 2018
Hamlet having a really good nap.
This black object is completely identifiable as Hamlet, enjoying this purrfect afternoon.
I actually got an inexpensive smartphone with inexpensive service to have for my travels over the past week, as well as just to use as a cell phone. I’m trying out the camera along with the service, and napping kitties are a purrfect subject. Not sure the camera really cuts it, though. But I had fun with it nonetheless.
Looks like there’s a UBO on my bed. They show up on rainy mornings like this. If you look closely you might see toe beans. (UBO = Unidentified Black Object) That would have to be Bella.
A UBO on my bed.
~~~
Photos posted on or around this date in previous years
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Wordless Wednesday: Saturated Nap
Giuseppe is enjoying a nap saturated with color and comfort.
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Basket Nap With Video
Basket Nap, Scene 1
The yellow basket continues to be a favorite napping spot, and Giuseppe and Bean have been favorite napping partners since they were kittens.
Basket Nap, Scene 2
Giuseppe kind of acts like the pillow while Bean likes to sleep in a ball, so he tucks himself into Giuseppe’s belly.
Basket Nap, Scene 3
The yawn starts another segment of the nap.
Basket Nap, Scene 4
I recorded just a short portion of the nap, doing my best to get the purrrrrr, so you might need to turn up your speakers.
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Photos posted on or around this date in previous years
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Blue Pitcher With Black Cat, 2013
Blue Pitcher
Don’t be silly, human. Who would be interested in a photo of a dumb blue pitcher?
I think this is much better.
Blue Pitcher With Cat
I have to say, I do like it, Mr. Sunshine, subtle, almost abstract. I have some talented cats here.
I also had way more photos of the blue pitcher with black cats in them than without.
This was the final photo I chose, without cats—just for jollies, even though no one would really want to see a photo of a dumb blue pitcher without any cats in it. I had my DSLR in my right hand and my left arm around Mr. Sunshine, Giuseppe and Mewsette on the cabinet, holding them against me as they struggled, and waving my right foot at Mimi and Bean on the floor to decoy them from jumping up. So I was standing on my left foot and doing the hokey pokey, and I don’t know why the photo is as clear as it is, or how I got the angle I wanted showing a bit of the table above it…
Blue
And don’t forget, you too can have talented photo assistants and feline art directors in your home—and I can vouch for the creativity of black cats. During Adopt-a-Cat Month, you can easily find your next interior decorator or social critic!
I first published this post on The Creative Cat in 2025.
All images and content are copyrighted and may not be used or reproduced in any way without my written permission. Please contact me if you are interested in using any of my content.
I make several non-customized memorial gifts, some intended for sympathy and remembrance, and some simply as gifts for animal lovers that can be used as remembrances.
Every day I design, make and sell many different gift items featuring my artwork and photography—that’s how the votives came to be. People have purchased the non-customized gifts when ordering a votive or other customized remembrance isn’t possible or when they want a gift to give right away.
About the image “I Will Always Walk With You”
Original photo for “I will Always Walk With You”
This particular design was based on a chance photo from a July morning in 2009 just three days after we lost Namir, and Cookie and I were out in our back yard, each doing our thing and remembering him, me racing from flower to glistening dewdrop with my camera.
They often followed or preceded me as I wandered. I happened to see my wet footprint and Cookie’s wet pawprints walking next to me on the flagstone path around my yard. Cookie and I were both missing Namir; he would have been with us on that morning, I feel he was.
Later that month I knew it had to be one of the set of sympathy cards I was designing and what text I’d use. I designed a few other remembrance items too.
About the “I Will Always Walk With You” Garden Flag
Flags are 11″ x 15″ and can be displayed outside in the garden or used indoors as a small banner. I print my flags on one side of cotton canvas duck fabric and stitch the pocket and hem. Cast iron flag stand is extra. Flags have been colorfast and resisted fraying for two years in just about all of my test yards around the country except where there’s been some wild weather. I’ve left my own out through the winter.
I was a little surprised at the popularity of this flag—I sell at least one at nearly every vendor event where I display my pet memorial gifts.
Scroll down to read about ordering a single flag or a quantity.
I make this flag in quantity because it’s also popular at my vendor events, so they can be ordered in quantity.
A single flag is $20.00 including shipping.
I can ship a single flag to your recipient with a note from you at no extra charge.
If you have an animal-related practice or business and want to order in quantity:
The first flag is $20.00, each extra flag is $10.00 each up to five with greater discounts for six. My price breakdowns are:
one = $20.00
two = $30.00
three = $40.00
six = $50.00
Order an “I Will Always Walk With You” Garden Flag
All images and content are copyrighted and may not be used or reproduced in any way without my written permission. Please contact me if you are interested in using any of my content.
In 2011 I published Great Rescues Calendar and Gift Book, a 16-month desk calendar that included a commissioned portrait of a rescued cat or cats for each month, plus more about the portraits, cats and rescuers in the back and information on cat care. But calendars go out of date and I knew these stories had to go on.
Great Rescues Day Book carries on the original idea in a way that’s much more permanent. This book is not dated for one year, but has all the dates in a month for you to fill in the birthdays, anniversaries, holidays and social and personal events in your life.
Great Rescues Day Book is spiral-bound and measures 8″ x 10″ to easily fit on your desk or in a purse, briefcase or backpack. While the original Great Rescues had a die-cut cover with the title stamped in gold foil, this has a solid 12 pt. printed cover for durability.
What’s a Day Book?
I’ve used a day book for over 20 years and have all the arrivals and, sadly, departures of each of my cats along with my friends’ weddings, my nieces’ births and the births of their children, the day I first registered a business name, all that sort of stuff, conveniently included in one place.
On the left is the featured portrait with the kitty’s story, below that the monthly fun quote of something feline. On the right is the month name with enough lines for all possible dates in that month. The holidays that are celebrated on a certain date are marked on that date, but ones that float, especially those Monday holidays, are explained at the bottom just to remind you that they also happen in that month. If animal-themed holidays are celebrated on a certain date, like Spay Day USA, they will also be included, but just the same if they are ones that float like Pet Memorial Sunday they will be explained at the bottom.
Here are the pages individually so you can open them and view them a little larger.
Although Great RescuesDay Book is a 12-month book I am still featuring from the original calendar 15 of the portraits of rescued cats I was commissioned to paint over 20 years as an animal portrait artist (to that date), plus the portrait of my own which I consider my first, “Waiting for Mom”, below.
That means you get a few pages in the center where you have only portraits and stories to enjoy.
And the story continues…
While the portraits are lovely and I’m proud of my body of work, the stories of these cats, and the people who rescued them, is what compels me to share them with you. Each of the stories tells of cats from shelters and cats abandoned and saved, cats found inside car engines and cats reluctantly surrendered by people who could no longer care for them, but each one has a happy ending as a cherished companion in a loving home.
And while each cat has an individual story, each rescuer has a story as well of reaching out to an animal in need to bring it in from the streets. In many cases they helped heal physical and emotional wounds and gave that cat a lifetime of love, in return receiving love and devotion; often those humans received some healing in return they weren’t aware they needed.
The story continues
After the calendar pages I have a section where the stories are continued, either with more details or updates; I remained friends with all my portrait customers and received continuing news. I also have notes on how I created the portraits that weren’t included in the stories.
And the story continues…
Resources for cat guardians
Following the calendar section and section of stories of the rescuers and their feline families I’ve included a mini cat-care book illustrated with my drawings. I based this information on the most frequent questions I field from people needing help with cats in any way, from finding strays or orphaned kittens, adopting for the first time or caring for a geriatric cat, a list of household toxins and toxic plants, or helping stray and feral cats and beginning with TNR.
“22 Cats” Notepaper
Each book includes 10 sheets of my “22 Cats” decorative notepaper with a collage of all the portraits in black and white so you can make your own notes or write special notes to friends.
“22 Cats” Notepaper
Each month on The Creative Cat I post the featured portrait, story and pages from Great Rescues Day Book and then describe the creation of the portrait in detail as well as even more history of the cats and the rescuers. You can browse here to read a few of the stories.
Here are images of the other portraits in the book—perhaps you’ll recognize a kitty you know!
All the portraits on the back of the book.
Purchase Great Rescues Day Book
Price includes shipping, and discounts for wholesale and quantity purchases.
If the book is a gift to someone, or you have a particular cat or cats in mind, I would be glad to add an inscription in the front of your book.
All images and content are copyrighted and may not be used or reproduced in any way without my written permission. Please contact me if you are interested in using any of my content.
A contemplative kitty sits quietly, looking out the window at the day.
I created the Silhouette at the Window design as another of my feline votive lamps collection but as soon as I added them to my display people bought them for themselves or others as sympathy or remembrance gifts. I can take the hint, and I can see why. So I’ve included them in my non-customized memorial gifts collection.
Silhouette at the Window Votive Lamp is a particular shape of upcycled jar, frosted outside with a black cut vinyl design and black glass paint embellishment, and offered in clear white or with blue, green or yellow transparent glass paint interior. All votive lamps come with a string of LED lights with a six-hour timer.
The inspiration and design of the Silhouette at the Window Votive Lamp design and product
I created the ink drawing that is the basis of this design way back in 1988, called Puck at the Window from a photo I’d taken in 1984, my roomate’s cat. You may have noticed in other feline art that cats at windows and the feline silhouette are favorite themes of mine, and you can see now it started early.
The line art I created from the photo.
Puck at the window.
Its original intent was as a sympathy card for my veterinarian to use, but that never came to fruition. I’ve considered it in my own collection of sympathy cards, but I’ve also had many another idea for items on which I could use this design, most involving light, and most originating decades ago. One of the first was as a nightlight cover, then a suncatcher, eventually, of course, a votive.
Scroll forward to today, when I’m actually planning my votives, this design was top of mind for three years, from the time I started working them out. I could picture this design on one of the four-sided jars I use for my cat art votives.
But what was the best way to present it? I love the contrast in the black and white, but the labels I print for my glass items don’t quite capture that; the black isn’t dense enough and the edges aren’t completely sharp because the label has a surface texture. No, the labels are purrfect for continuous tone artwork, not line art.
I could hand paint it in the dense black paint I use for glass, but I know I wouldn’t be able to reproduce this design well enough without taking a lot of time to handpaint each one. Trying to stencil or screen print each one would be too cumbersome because of the shape of the surface.
Window Silhouette Votive Lamp
But now…there’s vinyl to cut, with nice clean edges and permanent application, just perfect for an adaptation of line art with the interesting cat silhouette. I frosted the outsides of the jars so the glass exposed inside the vinyl design would have a matte finish while the permanent vinyl is gloss, giving it an extra dimensional interest.
I first introduced this design on a votive just in time for my 2021 Holiday Open House, as I’m so fond of creating a brand new item at the last minute for each open house and other events. That was also when Morty first had his urinary issue and I worked off my worry about him with working out this design while I kept an eye on him. I liked the way the original looked but wanted to make other adjustments and changes, and that’s what I worked out over the next few months. I made two to have at my events and was surprised they immediately sold. I’ve been making them since then, usually six at a time.
Four Silhouette at the Window votive lamps.
One of those refinements was adding color to the clear space. I liked the plain white, and the initial sketch was from a winter photo. But I could also visualize a blue sky out there, or a sunrise yellow, or even green for greenery. I will always make the plain white/clear, but I like the colors too. Up to now I’ve painted them on the inside, but I’m also working to see if the colors I use will be permanent on top of the etched surface.
Purchase a Silhouette at the Window Votive Lamp
Each of them comes with battery-operated string lights with a six-hour timer, and each has the original jar lid to keep the inside clean. You’ll also see that each one is a little different where the “leaves” are concerned in the design; those tiny pieces of vinyl don’t always stay where they’re supposed to.
Like everything else I make I’ve worked on the design and production of my upcycled glass jar votives, and one of the things was changing from small LED votive candles to LED light strings, with timers, so they are brighter and more colorful, and you can use them as lamps that turn on and off automatically.
They are made with frosted vinyl labels and embellished with glass paints and cut vinyl. Some of the jars may even look familiar as they are from spaghetti sauce, pickled things and condiments. I don’t mind buying new materials, but I also like to recycle, upcycle and reuse things when I can.
My feline votive lamps have a big variety of felines so you might be able to choose one that resembles the feline in question. Some of them are silhouettes or more abstract cat shapes, and some are collages of cats.
Visit the Votives Page in my Handmade Gift Gallery on Portraits of Animals to see the rest of the votives.
All images and content are copyrighted and may not be used or reproduced in any way without my written permission. Please contact me if you are interested in using any of my content.
Text reads: I’ll always remember the way you looked at me.
This is the cat to whom I dedicated my first set of Animal Sympathy Cards, and who actually inspired me to tell his story of HCM and CHF on a new website, The Creative Cat. Against all odds, after four years of daring CHF to see if it could catch him, it finally did and he lost his battle with heart disease on July 1, 2009. Today I remember his remarkable spirit and share this sympathy card that I designed in his memory.
Namir turns his gaze up to me, enchanting me with his “bedroom eyes” as we spend a morning in the garden. To visitors and to me, once he was sure he had you under his spell he turned on those famous bedroom eyes, narrowing them just enough so they looked mysteriously slanted and angling up a tourmaline glance, as if sharing a secret, looking totally exotic (he thought), purring joyfully, certain you belonged to him completely.
It was so much a part of “us”.
You can find this card on my page with the entire selection of similar cards, Animal Sympathy Cards.
But read on to find out more about the card, and about Namir. Things like this are the inspirations for my creative life and my memorial gifts.
Composing the text for this card
When I chose the phrase for this card, as with all my other animal sympathy cards that have text, I chose to make it positive in all ways I could. Instead of “I’ll never forget the way you looked at me” I chose to turn that “never” to “always” and felt it lift me: “I’ll always remember the way you looked at me.”
Like many of the phrases I choose for my sympathy cards, this one can work either way, as something you would say to your cat, or he might say to you because, of course, he would see the love in your eyes as well.
Who could look at those eyes and not see the love? I always felt so honored.
About finding the photo, and about Namir
Namir was an inspiration for many creative things for me, hundreds of photos and several sketches and paintings. His loss was my final motivation for creating the sympathy cards designed especially for the loss of a pet, focusing on cats.
But when I designed that first set of 12 cards, Namir wasn’t part of it. I think in fresh grief I focused on other cats, photos I remembered well, even though I scrolled through all my photos as part of my grief response. If I had found this photo I would have been over the moon, or maybe it would have stopped me.
I call this expression of Namir’s his “bedroom eyes”, that “come-hither look” that invites, well, in the case of cats, cuddles and pets and purrs, but most often it just means “I really love you”. I tried for years to get a photo of this expression on Namir, one that captured not only his face but a setting that I associated with him. But it’s really hard to focus down onto a pet’s face and get a good photo that isn’t somehow distorted in a way that I didn’t want in this memory, and wanting to use my DSLR for the best photo quality possible I practically had to stand on my toes to get the focal distance for my lens to capture his face and not his back or the ground around him.
I took this photo May 22, 2009, when I knew Namir was failing, and when it was also spring and prime gardening time and he and I and Cookie were spending as much time as possible together out there, and I was taking more photos than I even had time to look at. When he passed just six weeks later on July 1, 2009, I desperately wanted a photo of those eyes but there were so many to look through and this one was so recent, not as firm in my memory as others. I found many others, but not this one.
When Cookie passed in February 2012 and the year wore on into spring I was crowded by memories of her and sorted through all those photos again, and there it was, after the clematis vine in full bloom, the pea vines we’d planted in April, the daisies and fleabane, just a few photos of Cookie in the garden and the patio, a photo of Namir on the steps to the deck, and the last one of the day, this photo. One before it was a little blurry.
And how much more perfect could it be? Out in the back yard, the warm morning sunlight on Namir’s fur, enhancing his green eyes and the pink of his nose and mouth and ears, all just as I’d remembered. Best of all, our favorite time, out in the yard, the green of spring behind him and just a few vivid forget-me-nots, of all the flowers to be there.
Once I found it I remembered that morning and taking those photos, standing in one of the rows between tomato seedlings when he’d walked between them all from the brick path to me, stood and looked up at me, then sat down and looked at me more fully. It was important I notice him and share this moment. If I only had one chance to get this photo, I couldn’t have asked for a better one, nor been given a better one.
I guess I found it when I was ready.
NOTE: none of my cats roam. We visit the yard together, always under my supervision, and usually on a leash, unless they’ve proven they will stay with me. The days of Cookie and Namir with me out in the garden are like a myth, they were so perfect.
Salad Days, Morning in the Garden, May 9, 2009, with Cookie and Namir.
All images and content are copyrighted and may not be used or reproduced in any way without my written permission. Please contact me if you are interested in using any of my content.
Memorial card for Stanley.Memorial card for Stanley.
Help heal your grief at the loss of your precious companion with a creative card full of memories you can make and send to people who knew them: friends, family, veterinarians and others who may have provided services. Creating something is a calming and enriching activity, and reviewing images and remembering stories helps to bring you closer to a smile. Knowing the recipients will think of your animal companion and you helps to spread the grief a little thinner.
A few days before Stanley gave up his battle, I was trying to organize the kitchen sink, pushing around prescription bottles, small cans of cat food and jars of baby food, the bag of used needles from his sub-q fluid therapy, and there was the bag hanging from the ceiling, the line wrapped around the paper towel holder, and on the chair the beach towels I used to wrap him so he wouldn’t be able to get away from me, and the modified daily schedule to ensure that he ate and exercised and spent some time with the rest of the household. I guess he always knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him, and in the end isn’t that all any of us really need, the knowledge that there is at least one being in this world who cares unconditionally for our welfare and will do whatever they can for our happiness and security, simply out of love? When I was 25 years old and Stanley walked into my life did I know I could provide that for a cat? I don’t think so, but in the 21 years Stanley was with me I learned without even knowing there was a lesson.
. . . . . . .
This is from the card I created in Stanley’s memory, pictured above.
Years ago, before blogging, I designed a little printed piece for each of the cats I’d lost which included the most memorable photos and artwork and a tribute, printed them and mailed them out to friends and veterinarians. Designing and printing cards was a natural thing for me since I’ve been a graphic designer since the early 80s, but today it’s something just about anyone can do with an online service, or at home with simple software and a desktop printer, or cut vinyl, art paper and stamping.
The cards gathered my thoughts at that moment, sometimes begun a short time before they actually transitioned as I sat with them in those final days, and sometimes a week or so after if I needed a bit of time. I often found I’d discovered or rediscovered a bit of poetry or prose that was entirely appropriate for the times and shared it in my card along with my own words and images.
First inside fold of card.
It was an important part of my grieving, the writing, the design, turning my grief into creative energy and taking my time with each part. I wrote notes in each of the cards, reading the names and addresses and thinking of each person to whom I was sending the card and their relationship with the cat and with me, who was new on the list and how my life had changed during the years I’d shared with this cat. And not the least, I thought about how my life would be different without this cat to share it.
I had designed Stanley’s card to fold in on itself until it was a square, so that the reader could unfold it frame by frame and read and look at the art in sequence.
Second inside fold.
I still go through the rest of the process while gathering content for my blog posts, but of course there is no real design and I miss the finality of mailing and handling something tangible while thinking of the kitty in question. But I traded that for being able to reach more readers who have been following me on The Creative Cat, and that the story is accessible as long as I leave it there so I can continue sharing it. But recently I’ve gone back to cards and now I make cat-themed gift items with my art and creative equipment and include that inside the card.
What is important for me is, of course, for me to reach down into my creative self to find the ideas which in its own way washes away my current state of mind for a short while. The deep thought process begins to lead to acceptance, working my way through the guilt that arises sometimes with a difficult passing and questioning my judgment, or with a long illness and actually looking forward to being released from complicated care when my feline is released from suffering.
In Stanley’s case, he had peed all over everything through his life, and I would not miss that and should not miss that, but felt guilty for admitting it. In his last months his spine was degrading, in his last week it might be pinching his spinal cord so that he was losing the use of his hind legs until he could no longer manage his bowels. I had to express his bladder and bowels by putting him in the tub and squeezing, and with the tender state of his frail body I was frightened I would hurt him as I easily could have.
He was fully aware and social and loving, so the decision was not easy. A few days into that he looked up at me and I knew he was ready to finally let go. It was during that time that I wrote the narrative at the beginning of this post, organizing my thoughts while I organized my caretaking materials at the kitchen sink.
But the message, the written memorial, the time of focused contemplation, are all important to moving grief along at a pace that is right for each of us. And at the end of that process is not to be free from grief but shed the doubt and guilt and sadness and to turn your grief back into the love from which it was made.
Full inside.
. . . . . . .
Sweet Stanley, on one of his last mornings, enjoys the winter sun to warm him and perhaps remind him of younger days.
January 15, 2007 marks the day Stanley transitioned to his next existence after about 25 years in this mortal coil. I don’t always remember birthdays but I do remember the days my cats entered my life and left it; much led up to each event, and my life was changed forever with each one as well.
Stanley, though, for his longevity and for many other qualities, has a memorable leavetaking as much for his condition and care as for what his age and position in seniority represented. Not only was he very old, he was the last of the cats I’d rescued before I even moved into this house, and with him went all those memories of early rescues and working on the beginnings of my art career late into the night. A certain sense of my own youth had gone with him.
I haven’t written Stanley’s rescue story or much about him, partly because I’m working my way back from the cats who’ve been with me since I’ve been writing The Creative Cat. When you live with an evolving household of cats over a period of years, they arrive, stay for their time and sadly leave us too soon, but they are intertwined with our own lives and those of our other animal companions. Stanley was with me for 21 years, and that’s a lot of history to share. I’ve been reviewing photos for months, years really, and I’m constantly surprised at what I’ve forgotten. Some day soon, I’ll do him justice.
He was fully adult when his big green eyes first looked through my door one day and with all those tabby stripes, white whiskers and big white mittens and a white diamond between his eyes he asked to come in as if he’d been sent on an important errand, though it took him a couple of weeks and an ice storm to get his point across. Surely he was sent equipped with all the lessons he would deliver about feline diet and health, emotional needs, patience and understanding, and it took him all 21 years to teach me, and to resolve the issues he carried until he was thoroughly done with me and this world and ready to move on.
The veterinarian who examined him at his first urinary blockage guessed his age at between three and five, so we took the average and figured he was four. He was the most troubled cat I’ve ever known, suffering from constant urinary issues and acting out from the chronic pain, finding a reason to pee on just about everything and once biting me so badly and narrowly missing the artery in my right wrist that I spent hours in the emergency room being filled with antibiotics and pain killers. But he was sweet and silly and apologetic so I covered much of my house in sheets of plastic and learned to understand what he was telling me so that I could help him through whatever physical or emotional crisis caused him to act that way. He was diagnosed with chronic kidney failure at age 21 but survived four years of my treating him with fluid therapy, wrapping him in a towel and sitting on him to hold him long enough to give him a therapeutic dose, and supplements thanks to my veterinarian’s patient guidance.
I’m not one for shopping in grocery stores on a regular basis, but a few weeks after he passed I found myself in the grocery store near midnight and realized the last time I’d been there it was also later at night to buy a few jars of baby food for Stanley because he would not eat his canned food. Stanley had still been alive, and that had not been too long before then. Stanley’s death had been long in coming and expected, I had plenty of time to prepare and recovered fairly quickly afterward, but right in the baby food aisle I began to cry all over again. I have no idea what anyone thought who might have seen me.
Stanley was the last of the original clowder I moved in here with and the last of four senior cats who passed in the space of a year. Though the adult cats who still lived with me were also seniors, I also had Lucy, my kitten, the new life who had known those older cats. I could pause and rest from a lot of caretaking and a lot of loss.
. . . . . . .
Below is the poem I’d discovered just a few months prior to this time, which I placed on the back of the card.
After great pain, a formal feeling comes –
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –
The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’
And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?
The Feet, mechanical, go round –
A Wooden way
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone –
This is the Hour of Lead –
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –
First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –
All images and content are copyrighted and may not be used or reproduced in any way without my written permission. Please contact me if you are interested in using any of my content.
