A poem:
I could not find it on the floor
I could not find it by the door
I could not find it in my bed
I could not find it on my sled
No wait, I do not have a sled
At least it was not near my head!
I could not find it here or there
I could not find it anywhere
Could he, would he, is he done?
Is all that extra cat-puke gone?
Thank you, thank you, Tig the cat
The yakking’s done, thank you for that!
Did you off poor Tig the cat?
Was he snuffed out with your hat?
Did you, could you with a bat
Just so you could have some quiet
and respite from his hair-ball diet?
Now that his hacking is evermore nixed,
I think he would’ve rather again be fixed.
Comment by chsw10605 — 11/28/2005 @ 8:28 pm
I like to see them in a box.
I like to see them eating lox.
I like to see them lick their fur.
I like to see them as they purr.
I like to see them leap up high
Or lounge with a contented sigh.
I like to see them tummy-pose
Or curl up tight, tail over nose.
I like to see them with a dog.
I’d like to see them on this blog.
This site has many bailiwicks –
But won’t you please post kitty pics?
Comment by Rahel — 11/29/2005 @ 7:27 am
You and Rahel should get together, Meryl, and become the new Dr. Seuss. Here’s your first title: Tunafish for Tig and Gracie.
Comment by Michael Lonie — 11/29/2005 @ 8:48 pm