Well the cat at the top got all mad
When he woke to find out he’d been had.
So he thought up a plot
To get back at the lot.
Soon he’d have back his shiny doodad.

While his brothers were having a snack
That sly cat snuck behind to attack.
Well he pounced and they flew
Then said, “Merci Beaucoup!”
Strolling off with his reclaimed gimcrack.

The man had a lover named Nell
Who made his heart patter and swell
She was lithesome and pretty
But never liked Kitty
She’d say “I just can’t stand the smell”

When Kitty was put in a cage
She scorned the man’s hope to assuage
Like a calico spector
Of Hannibal Lecter
Her eyes were just gleaming with rage

At the vet, Kitty’s rage was quite frightening
The tension was high and still heightening
The vet and his helpers
Were cowards and yelpers
Her claws were still flashing like lightning

Kitty finally went under the knife
And the man soon took Nell for his wife
And now Kitty’s much better
But pees on Nell’s sweater
For better or worse that’s their life

While I perched on the toilet to pee,
a young cat was attending to me.
As I stood up and flushed,
toward my lap it had rushed,
then swirled headlong toward life #3.

i.
On an evening pleasant and fair,
I went with a book to my lair.
I thought I’d retire
To a place by the fire,
And read in my favorite chair.

I went to my chair — almost sat in it;
But I couldn’t, for there was a cat in it.
I put down my Thurber.
How could I disturb her,
All cozy and fuzzy and fat in it?

ii.
I turned to myself, and said, “Look,
We must find an alternative nook.
Since our plan didn’t fare well,
Let’s read in the stairwell!”
I reached down to pick up my book…

But when I reached down — what was *that* on it?
My book had a very large cat on it
(When I tried to insist,
He would nibble my wrist,
And he ended up lying down flat on it).

iii.
I abandoned my book and my seat,
And went to make something to eat.
In my kitchen I’ve got
A big stainless-steel pot,
Which is perfect to cook up a treat.

So I went to prepare something hot in it,
But I couldn’t. There was a guess-what in it,
Happy, purring, contented…
(Of course, I relented:
I’ll come back some time when she’s *not* in it).

iv.
“Oh, forget about dinner,” I said;
“It is time I was going to bed.
I’ll count cats — I mean, sheep —
‘Til I drift off to sleep
With the covers pulled over my head.”

But here’s a predicament pretty:
The bed was all covered in kitty!
All types, breeds and versions
From tabbies to Persians…
And no room for me, more’s the pity.

v.
That’s the end of my story so far,
As I go off to sleep in the car.
But the worst thing is that
I DO NOT HAVE A CAT…
(Say — I wonder whose kitties they are?)

Thanks — wtl)

****

A poet (I quite forget who)
Said, “A cat is a living haiku.”
But this cat of mine’s
Built on limerick lines —
She’s a thoroughly filthy one, too!

****
CATS AND COMPUTERS #1
All kitties, from seaboard to seaboard,
Seem to find it delightful to bè bored.
Cats sleep, so they say,
Twenty hours a day —
And their favorite place is your keyboard.

****
CATS AND COMPUTERS #2
My cat on the stove made a mess.
He said, “It was me, I confess.
Y’see, marking like that’s
Like a blog for us cats,
And the stove is my I-Pee Address!”

****

Though kitties are pretty and sweet,
They have predator’s claws on their feet.
Our domestic arrange-
ment is likely to change
If they find out we’re made out of meat.