My cat plays ball in the bathtub,
While the tub, of course, is bone dry,
And the frantic antics of the cat,
Often cause the ball to fly high.
With a good swift bat, the tiny cat,
Can send the ball up to the rim,
Where it rolls around and then goes down,
For the cat to bat at again.
But one day the ball flew out of the tub,
Into the adjacent porcelain pot,
It vanished then from the little cat's sight
And did not bounce back ... as it ought.
The porcelain pot was big and round,
And the water it held, deep and cold,
The cat was sad; she felt very bad,
With her ball now submerged in that bowl.
Disturbed, distressed, under major duress,
She closed her eyes tight and jumped in
 She landed head-first in that cold, wet vat,
And got soaked clear through to her skin.
Pulled out by the furry nape of her neck,
And dried off with a thick, thirsty towel,
The bewildered, damp cat sat limply back,
Amidst hysterical wails and howls.
So where oh where had her little ball gone?
It surely was nowhere in sight,
Had the porcelain bowl swallowed it whole?
Oh my, what a terrible plight!
But her S. O. S. cries got swift replies,
When a plumber soon answered the call,
He'd come to plumb, and his job was well done,
When he gave back to the cat her lost ball.
Her master was dazed by the plumber's bill,
Although pleased that the ball got unstuck,
But the blasť cat could not have cared less,
About the bill for One Hundred Bucks! 
Well, gosh ... a One Hundred Dollar ball game,
For a flat, skinny purse was too much,
I wondered then ... should I put the cat back ...
In that porcelain bowl ... and just ... FLUSH!

(Just kidding)
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright July 2010
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