If only I had fed the cat,
my socks might not have holes
and lampshades might be still attached
to all their proper poles.
The rugs might not be in a pile
and drapes, not ripped in shreds---
if only I had gotten up
to see the cat was fed.
A toilet paper trail's been laid
to prove my cat's got spunk;
it's woven all around this place
midst rubber balls and junk.
Twas just as I thought cleaning up
was almost surely done,
I heard that awful coughing sound---
A hairball? Tons of fun!
I wonder why I ever thought
this Saturday was mine?
It surely wasn't meant to be;
a cat deserves to dine!
A can of food within her dish,
my little angel purred.
You asked me if she's happy now?
She's left both pant legs furred!
I love the cartoon--it reminds me of someone. I used to have a cat until I came home to potted plants turned over, TP unfurled, etc, then I set my cat free so she could continue her vandalism out in the big, wide world. As always, your poem is great, Sharon.
I enjoyed this jaunty romp My cats dont give me the choice they come and wake me when its breakfast time. we ocasionally disagree when they decide whats on offer is not their fancy today. I have one rule only eat what there is or go without So that are not totally spoilt brats