“It’s Boxing Day,” my two-legs said,
I have to disagree,
The morning after Christmas
Has another name to me.
“It’s Canning Day,” I whispered,
And my two-legs cocked an eye,
I turned away discretely
‘Cause the small dog doesn’t cry.
Last year we’d had a lot of fun
Across the Ocean wide,
As Cat and Dog had made a team
That crossed the great divide.
My lips are sealed on what we did
Let’s just say that next door,
Where two bêtes noires annoyed us, well…
They wouldn’t any more.
SamCat had been the mastermind
A cunning, feline plan
To oust our rivals past the fence
With just a humble can…
Or maybe more than one; we’d saved
A can… or two… or three,
While SamCat sorted yappy dog,
Old Ginger ran from me.
We proved the entente cordiale
Could cross the widest sea,
And cross the inter-species gap
Between SamCat and me.
Now once again it’s Canning Day
And I will raise a toast…
And wonder if the yappy dog
Can see old SamCat’s ghost.
For though the friendship grew and bloomed
Beyond the ocean deep,
My friend has crossed the rainbow bridge
And curled up into sleep.
That doesn’t mean he’s gone too far,
For still his loving heart
Is wrapped around his two legs’ soul
… And love does not depart.