THE BATTLE AT THE DOORWAY
 
 
 
Stretched across the unclosed doorway
Was my unrelenting cat,
Openly defying me,
Content at where she sat.
 
Eye to eye we met each other,
The fight of wills began,
"MOVE!" my voice commanded,
Her stance said, "MAKE ME, IF YOU CAN!"
 
I could not step across her,
Nor could I go around,
She took up so much space,
I feared I'd trip and end up down.
 
I thought I'd squeeze by on her left,
But NO!  She shifted o'er,
Perhaps the right side then would work,
But NO!  She shifted more.
 
Alas!  Alack!  What should I do?
My cat can't have the upper hand,
"OH YEAH!" she smirked, as she meowed,
"MOVE ME, IF YOU CAN!"
 
So I took my wide-sized pair of feet,
And inched them gently 'neath her tummy,
She peeked at me through slotted eyes,
I sneered, "WHAT'S THE MATTER, HONEY?"
 
Then when my feet were firm beneath,
 I grabbed the doorjamb with both hands.
And, with wild abandon, swung my feet,
Wondering where the cat would land.
 
OH, THE FURY!  OH, THE MAYHEM!
Like a murder taking place,
The shrieks - the yowls - the kitty growls,
But - Aha - the cat gave up her space.
 
With satisfaction, I strode through
The opening I'd gained,
But at the very next doorway,
I ran into my cat again.
 
She just doesn't get the message,
How peaceful life could be,
If she'd only stretch out somewhere else,
And leave the doorways free.
 
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright June 2003
 

The cat in the picture is my Ms Lucy, who not only stretches out
in doorways, but also takes over the bathroom sink to drink
fresh water from the tap.
 

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