On
the one hand, Kitty, you're a cat that naps
While
you're purring so contentedly curled in my lap.
As
you wake from a dream to stretch and yawn,
You
meow faintly for the cream that I fetch at dawn.
I
feel a paw touch softly upon my cheek,
Like
a flash to your bowl, you dash in a streak.
But
…
With
an ounce of pounce you'll jump on a table
And
navigate deftly twixt hot soup and ladle.
While
lavishing three last long licks at the butter.
We
shout ...NO!!!...
Beneath
a chair you slink, as we we fume and mutter
About
cat hair...contamination...putting you out for the night!
Oh
why can't a cat be trustworthy, honest, and truly contrite?







