Oh my master, do not take me for a slave, for I have in me a taste for liberty:
Do not seek to divine my secrets, for I have in me a taste for mystery;
Do not constrain me with caresses, for I have in me a taste for modesty,
Do not humiliate me, for I have in me a taste for pride,
Do not abandon me, for I have in me a taste for fidelity,
Love me and I will love thee, for I have in me a taste for friendship.


(Joan M Vivian)

For all unwanted kittens and cats
For all who have no-one to love them
We beseech Thee to hear us, Good Lord.

For all sick and injured kittens and cats
We beseech Thee to hear us, Good Lord.

For all abandoned and dumped cats
Especially pregnant queens with nowhere to bear their kittens
We beseech Thee to hear us, Good Lord.

From all cruel, unthinking people and those
Who put the cat out at night
Good Lord deliver us.

From all who go on holiday and leave us to fend for ourselves
From all those who think cats are self-sufficient and can feed themselves
Good Lord deliver us.

From wet nights and no shelter
Good Lord deliver us.

From mange, cat flu, feline enteritis and all the ills cats are heir to,
Good Lord deliver us.

We thank you, Lord, for all those who love us,
For warm milk, warm bed, fires and any who make happy homes for us,
At rescue shelters,
And grant, O Lord, when our time comes,
A happy ending and a place reserved for cats in Thy Heaven.


"What have you done?" The Lord will say,
On Judgement Day, On Judgement Day,
"What have you done to fur and bone?
What have you done to my own, to my own?
I gave them sight. You took it away.
What have you done?" The Lord will say.

"Slowly, in pain, you made them die,
I heard them cry, I heard them cry.
Oh did you not see the beauty and grace?
That you did deface, that you did deface.
Oh did you not know, or did you not care,
That like you, like you, they felt pain and fear?
They responded to love, they responded to life,
But you cut them up with a knife, with a knife."

"What have you done?" The Lord will say,
On Judgement Day, on Judgement Day.


(An abused cat who lived with the writer for 2 months)
(S L Smith)

Too many years of badly bruised bones,
From the toe of a boot,
On an uncaring foot.
Two short sweet months in a warm caring home,
Full of salmon and cream,
That was once just a dream.
Enough time to know as your body grows cold,
That after ten years of hell,
Heaven exists on Earth, as well.


(Fleur Puss)

Thank you, God, for harvest-time,
For milk, for meat, for fish,
Thank you, God, for all the food,
I find upon my dish.

Thank you, God, for Autumn time,
When leaves come tumbling down,
Thank you for their pretty colours,
Red, and gold, and brown.

Thank you, God, for giving me,
A lovely coat of fur,
Thank you, God, that I can talk
By means of mew and purr.

Thank you for my happy home,
Where love and care abound;
Thank you for its warmth and comfort,
Always to be found.

Thank you, God, for all the gifts,
That life has given me;
Dear God, who made us all, I raise
My humble paws to Thee.

(W Girt)

The Lord looked down upon His world, created fresh and new,
With soaring, shining mountain tops and gleaming seas of blue.
The lordly lions roaming free with tigers golden bright,
All very grand, magnificent, but somehow, not quite right.
He stroked His beard and mused awhile and thought of this and that,
'All these are far too big,' he said, 'I'll make a smaller cat;
To edge towards the fire at night, out of the chilly wind,
An independent animal, but needing human kind;
With fur so soft and warm to touch, but brimming full of guile,
With pansy-faced wee kittens to make the children smile.'
All that was very long ago, but still the cat's with us,
Aloof and condescending, but loving all the fuss.
You'll never, ever own a cat, as all cat lovers know,
He'll curl himself around your heart and never let you go.


C H Campagna

Somebody's cat went missing last night,
Somebody's cat had a terrible fright,
Somebody's cat was very brave,
So many kind people his life tried to save.

No-one's name hung from his collar last night,
Just a strip of tape for reflecting the light,
But a small strip of tape can in no way compete,
With so many cars and a busy town street.

It's such a dangerous world outside for cats,
With fast cars and dogs and with poisoned rats,
Someone, somewhere by a window will wait,
Thinks: "He'll be home soon, though it's now late."

Just a number to call could have meant instead
Of kind strangers she could have held his head,
I wonder if she's sorry she let her cat roam,
When he could have been so safe in her home?

The morning sun would have warmed his soft fur,
As he sat on her lap to wash and to purr.
Somebody's cat gave death quite a fight,
When somebody's cat died late last night.


W. Girt

The old cat stiffly turns and then resumes his patient wait;
His eyes fixed firmly on the road outside the garden gate.
So many days he’s waited here for his beloved Mum;
Mornings dawn and evenings fade, but still she doesn’t come.

In the house, her jumper’s spread upon her favourite chair;
But, what’s the use of comfort if your loved one isn’t there?
A kindly neighbour fills his dish and rubs his tabby head,
‘Tomorrow will be Christmas Eve — you’ll have her home,’ she said.

His head lifts as the gatelatch clicks and, joy of joys, it’s ‘HER’.
Somewhere, deep within his chest, starts up a mighty Purr.
Forgetting age, with tail aloft, he runs to meet his friend.
For him, it’s Happy Christmas and fussing without end.

But, there are many homeless cats with no such loving care,
And for these lonely, friendless ones, I pray a Christmas prayer
That each may have its share of love and shelter from the storm,
Sufficient food, a place to sleep in: somewhere safe and warm.

(M P Barnaby)

Soon, no gambols of the dog upon the lawn,
No graceful feline clawing up the apple tree,
No song of joyous blackbirds at the dawn,
Only the blocks of flats and things forlorn.

Forlorn as everyone will be,
When progress takes all beauty right away,
No peace, no birds, no animals to share,
The heritage that God gave all to share.

( K MacVitie)

The peace and joy you give me, no words can ever tell,
The lessons that you teach me, in my heart will always dwell,
Your purrs bring forth divinity, to comfort, heal and bless,
Wondrous being, praise to you for your gracious loveliness.


St Gertrude, former Abbess of Nivelles, Brabant died in 659 and is patron saint of cats and gardeners. She may also be invoked by persons afraid of mice. St Gertrude's feast day is 15th November.

(M Cranswick)

St Gertrude, keep my cat all night
From trap or poison, thorn or bite,
From speeding cars and thieving men,
And bring him safely home again.


St Gertrude, grant a gentle to end,
To cats who suffer at the hands of men,
Cats blinded, scalded, poisoned, maimed,
Some, lost pets, seized when unclaimed,
St Gertrude, hear my prayer this night,
And grant them surcease from their plight.


(Sister Letitia)
Tune: Once In Royal David's City

Come you cats of every colour
Kittens, too, of every size
See, the Lord who made the tiger
Lowly in a manger lies.
Praise him all his little tigers
Let your joyful purring rise.

Siamese and stately Persian
Homely black and Tabby gay,
Leave your cushions, leave your roof tops
Call a truce with mice today.
Swift and silent, velvet footed
Hasten now down Bethlehem way.

See, he smiles to see you coming
Mary welcomes you within.
Joseph with a friendly finger
Gently strokes your furry chin.
Ox and ass are there beside you
Sheep and camel peering in.
All creation sings his praises
Voices, music, sharps and flats
Join the chorus, cats and kittens
Praise him, just by being cats.