My sister and I found this poem by my mother today.
The Cat That Walked by Himself
When I was just a child of three
Or was it four or five
At any rate since I recall
I must have been alive
When round about her garden fair
My mother walked with me
She whispered stories in my ear
From famous libraries
The cat that walked alone she said
Was very much my way
Of finding quite a special road
To choose to take each day
We had the book, I saw the page
The picture printed clear
So seeing it I once again
With memory hold it dear.
Pauline Johnson, 2002
I found another link using the high speed internet here in Kingston, true stitches(Canadian).