Joey Katt

Joey Katt by Darmok 12/24/01 Be quiet you noisy beast!, You’ve been fed and you’re way too fat, Why did I ever say yes, Go ahead you can have another cat! Get down, stop that, clean up her mess, Look at that, she’s scratching the couch! god what is that stink,  …is that a damn furball, is she smelling my shoe? Someone take care of that CAT BOX, If its not cleaned in the next couple of minutes, I’m gonna move everything to one of your rooms! Stop that incepted  screech of a meow, Where were you when the handed out cat voices? No…no..noooooo!, I don’t W a n t to hold her, Don’t give me that caT!  Finally some peace at last and for once the litter is clean…oh..crap..she’s in the box, Didn’t she just go!  Get away…go lick your Self enjoy the smell, I don’t….and don’t forget To cover it…you KNOW! I don’t like that cat, she’s a poop machine, She can’t be trusted around the potted plants. So all of the planters are rock gardens and there’s that cat.  Abigail is her bud, she stays Out of trouble, but she too is a poop machine, But Joey, give me a break.  I know when I go to work, they think they Own the house, and break every rule they Can at least a hundred times before I get Home.  You’d think they’d gotten it all Out of their systems by the time I got Home.  For as much as I scold Joey, and chase Her off the kitchen table, she amuses Me and underneath my stern look Of disappointment (for my daughters sake) I am ‘sort’ of fond of her.  At times Its so funny, as she prefers my company on The couch, and although in a moment I could scold her for something,... she never Misses the opportunity to cop a feel when She passes.  That is, you know, the way Cats are...they snake that feeler of theirs Around your leg  and affectionately grope Your calves as some sort of friendship Ritual, they claim 'you'...a part of their clan. Maybe she’s just doing her best,... Trying to win me over, she knows I’m a sucker for her cute little face And the gentle purr that she makes. She’s soft and looooooooves to make Bread in my lap.  After a couple of Circles, another ritual, she settles down For a comfortable squat. She starts with the paws and little pricks of her Claws…as they push into my arm or my Thigh… ‘making bread’.  That’s when The purrs start to rumble and I guess We are both in heaven for a bit, She’s happy …and I’m happy, happy She’s not ‘up to something’…nothing Could be better, . UNTIL, . She passes wind, and slowly the smell permeates the Surroundings and the blame game Begins,....ending in ‘the cat’ taking A hike and me again scouring at her! She is a cute cat though :)Not so much a poem ...as it is just a funny little piece. Written December 24th, 2001 © on Dec 24 2001 11:44 AM PST, Darmok    0 • 14