Cat Art Rules!
- Peggy Sullivan
- Apr 8
- 2 min read

Their compact little bodies make for quick sketching, little ears pointed up to listen to the world around them. They sit patiently and fit into many beautiful settings.

A cat could be there watching, listening, sitting quietly - calm in the midst of wild diversity.

Their famous curiosity draws them to many places, especially something new. Bring anything new into your home and they will notice it and examine it. If it's a box, they'll be in it.

In nature, they notice textures and smells and sights. Their sensitive whiskers extend like wispy feelers. Their delicate noses lift in the air. Their stillness, when settled in a favorite spot, makes them good subjects. In a composition, their compact bodies fit in many places. They could be in most outdoor settings.

They also curl up easily to fit in a lap, a symbol of warmth and contentment.

We wonder what a cat thinks as it watches us throughout the day. What mysteries do we offer? What does it notice?
Cat poems:
A cat observes silently from its perch.
What an honor to be the object
of such quiet consideration.
Summer cats slip out to hunt at night
in cool air under a moonlit sky
to later sleep all day in quiet corners.
Soft paws creep closer as Bridget finds her place to snuggle
into the softness and warmth I offer
and together we drift into contented dreams.
Peace is snuggling with a velvet-furred cat
purring on my lap
while I lose myself in yet another adventure
within the pages of a book.
For Fiona:
Last night
she leapt upon my lap,
stared into my eyes,
and kneaded the blanket across my thighs.
Does she miss her kitty mother?
I wonder about her grief,
taken from her mother as a baby;
so young she came,
so tiny and soft.
She studies my face
with eyes so wide
her pupils black
within a pool of green.
She and I together, two single ladies,
hanging out, as a candle burns,
watching the news and
wondering what tomorrow might bring;
but settling for pleasure in each other's company,
giving each other warmth in a chilly room
on a winter's night.
I stroke her back.
She lifts her chin and purrs loudly with approval.
My fingers tingle and I admire the deep velvety pillow of fur.
There are no more words to say.
She will stay until i move.
The need to stretch my legs will signal a change.
and she will go and find her sister.
And they will fly upstairs together,
to roll and tumble across the carpet,
and pretend to be great hunters and scout prey,
catnip mice and Christmas bows.
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