This poem was a gift from my cats... |
What is it like, being a cat? Would I know thin? Would I know fat? What about the difference between mouse and rat? Yes, what is it like, this being a cat? Things with long tails scurry about on the ground, revealing their presence through movement and sound, which is especially good when the sound’s from a hound, For from that sound I’d run And find me the nearest safe spot in the sun where I can just lie and watch spider webs spun, then drift off to sleep to dream of pure fun Like Jumping to high places, licking other cats’ faces, & thinking the only thing better than a really good chase is sniffing up catnip and tossing shoelaces Until the long lazy hours of daylight are done Then comes my best time, the dark vibrant night, when my claws are as sharp as my nocturnal sight And then, just because, if the feeling is right, I’d find me a feline and get into a fight with snarling and scratching and sounds impolite, until one of us gives up and takes off in fright Then it's home to my humans, to their great delight, settle down in soft covers feeling all right, curling up tight, having earned my respite So, what is it like, this being a cat? If I were a human, I’d say it’s all that! ! |