a poem for doctor cat

From an 1882 cat miscellany by Elizabeth Surr (Stories about Cats, published by T. Nelson and Sons; pp. 83-4).

THE BEST PHYSICIAN
Upon his bed of pain the sick boy lay
Forlorn and sad;
Too much alone he spent the weary day—
A pining lad.

The house was hot, the street door open stood
For cooler air,
And, unperceived, a small cat creeping in
Went up the stair.

Oh, angels come to comfort us at times
When grief is sore!

And this small cat like angel seemed to John
Inside his door.

Joy flushed his pallid face with crimson bloom, 

His eyes grew bright.
"Oh, come, dear puss, upon my bed," he cried,

"And stay all night!"

With tail erect upon the bed it sprang,
And purred with joy,
And soothed him so with song that Johnny felt
A happy boy.

Puss shared his supper, stopped with him all night,
And every day;
For mother (absent oft) gave willing leave
For puss to stay.

And quickly now the sick boy better grew,
Till mother said, 

"Dear doctor, to your med'cine much we owe—
John's out of bed!"

The doctor smiled a kindly smile, and said—
"It was not that.
The best physician that your boy called in
Was Doctor Cat!"

* * *

Admit it, that's cute.