a Word from the Cat
By: Marcia Woodard
I'm a cat, a fur-clad Hyde and Jekyll And observing my actions, you’d say
That I’m certifiably mental Chasing nothings and shadows all day.
I’ll steal your food in a moment The instant you look somewhere else
You’re not sure if I do it to torment Or to try to take care of myself
I’ll dutifully go in my “sandbox” Then kick the stuff out on the floor
I’ll romance every cat within five blocks After shredding your brand new screen door.
At times, you’ll think you can’t take me That bringing me home was a trap
Then just as you’re ready to shake me I’ll come nestle down on your lap.
We’ll snuggle together at bedtime As I let you pet my silky fur
Then, as you drift off, “MYOW?” like last time With the “MYOW!” interrupting my purr.
I'll MYOW as you try appeasement And MYOW as you beg me goodnight
I’ll pause then again start MYOW teasement And MYOW ‘til you turn on the light
You say to me, “Obey your master.” Psht! ”MYOW-ster?” Don’t make me laugh!
We all know it’s dogs who have masters, But cats? MYOW, what we have is staff.
So give me the honor that’s due me, Strew catnip and mice where I trod,
You don’t like my manners? So sue me!
But in Egypt, MYOW was a god.