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I've lived
in my house for many years,
I know every
squeaky board.
I know the
holes behind each picture,
And each
concealed extension cord.
I can
navigate from room to room,
Without any
hesitation.
I feel no
need to see my way,
To reach my
destination.
In the
middle of the night,
When the
lights are off or low.
I move with
safe assurance,
To any place
I want to go.
But a
problem lately has occurred,
Which seems
to be on-going,
An obstacle
and hindrance,
Is causing
major slowing.
It started
with my paper,
I read the
following ad.
FREE TO GOOD
HOME is what it said,
So, I
called, and I was "had."
Who would
have thought one lowly cat,
Could change
a person's life-style.
But I have
found I've been slowed down,
In ways that
seem quite juvenile.
No matter
where I want to go,
She's right
under my two feet.
She's
exactly where I want to be,
And I feel I
must compete.
When we
leave the starting gate,
At precisely matching
times.
Her speed is
not impeded by,
The route
she has in mind.
She often
takes detours,
Her course
may not go straight.
But,
son-of-a-gun, even though I run,
She always
beats me to the plate.
At night,
when I am tired,
And it's
time to go to bed.
I can't turn
down my covers,
She's stretched
out upon my spread.
When I open
up my outside door,
And the
temperature is low.
Guess who
parks upon that threshold,
As she
decides which way to go.
"IN OR
OUT," I'll loudly cry,
But, alas,
she's grown deaf.
She sits and
scratches both her ears,
And I have
no success.
She behaves
the same on window sills,
She will not
desert her station.
When chilly
winds are blowing in,
I think of
cat annihilation!
She's been
in every storage cupboard,
At times,
not opportune.
She will lie
upon the item sought,
Then dare me
to make her move.
She's good
at jumping into drawers,
Once there,
I cannot close them.
She'll sit
and blithely bathe her paws,
While I am
contemplating mayhem.
She also has
this penchant,
For drinking
water from the tap.
So, my
bathroom sink is out of bounds,
I mean for
me - not for the cat.
The center
of a doorway.
Is her
favorite resting spot.,
When I step
over, to go through,
Her little
paw will take a swat.
To transport
groceries from my door,
Unto my
kitchen counter.
Is the
ultimate test of human skill,
And oft
provokes feline encounters.
As she
weaves between my unsure feet,
I juggle
grocery sacks.
And cans of
this and cans of that,
Bombard, but
miss the cat.
She thinks
those cans are toys for her,
As she rolls
them 'neath the couch.
The word,
KILL, then occurs to me,
As I stoop
to pull them out.
The battle
twixt my cat and me,
Ends at
night in my big chair.
Just before
I sit upon her,
We do trade
places there.
I get
down, and she gets up,
My body
forms a lap.
She circles
'round and settles down,
All's forgiven;
she's my cat.
Virginia
(Ginny) Ellis
copyright 7/2000
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