I can’t talk long. My duty’s never done:
Masts to be marked, untested rays of sun,
Spills to be sniffed at, lapped up or rejected,
Men to be watched, tribute to be collected --
The lump of pork, the scratch between the ears.
So begins a poem by Museum friend Laura Brown, which she has posted over at her excellent blog A Number of Things.
I may go up, if no one interferes,
To the place where I can see my whole domain.
They call it crow’s nest, liars. Still, I’ve lain
Nowhere with greater pleasure. It awakes
The kitten in me when the ocean shakes.
If you've been a Museum friend for a while you know how fond I am of celebrating the creatures that serve among soldiers and sailors, holding their own jobs and cheering those around them. When I read Laura's "The Ship's Cat" a few days ago I wrote asking if I might share it with you all. No sooner had she said yes than Blogger did whatever that was (did your comment get lost? I wish you'd post it again if so).
So, since we seem to be up and running again, I want to send you on a visit to A Number of Things, where you can read the entire poem. It made me want to take Elizabeth to the beach again (she's already been once).