heres-the-thing-cat

Since we met, I’ve been your biggest fan
I pet you.
I show you love.
I don’t mind that your belly swings as you scamper down the hall.
I don’t mind your dandruff or that you shed everywhere
Well, I do mind,
But let’s just say I mind least of all who know you.
I don’t care how lazy you are.
I don’t care that I leave for work and return 10 hours later to find that you still haven’t moved for three days.
I watch out for your physical and emotional well-being, at least in my head.
I called you ‘Mr. Meowzers’ through the thick of your gender-confusion issues.
I told no one about your shower-licking habits.
I even sat down to socialize whenever I thought you needed it.

But apparently, that wasn’t enough.
Today, you bit me.

I was petting you, like always.
You were purring and prowling, like always.
You rubbed your little head and ears all over my shoes.
You were looking at me, being cute, despite your age and size.
And then,
Chomp.

I know I yelled.
I know it didn’t hurt that bad, really.
I know most of the damage was done when I threw on the hot water and scalded my skin raw.

But, the idea! You bit me!

You may not know, but your days were already numbered.
Someone already wanted you out.
And I defended you! I stuck up for you!
I got over your senseless scratching of my dear sweet lady friend!
I said you were cute.
I said you were fun.
I tried to find a home for you.
I pitched you to my friends.
I went to work and said, “Anyone want Cat?”
I kept an ear out, listening for subtle feline desires.

But now, I just don’t know any more, Cat.
I just don’t.

If passion begets poetic inspiration
(and my anger has certainly spiked),
Then this, certainly, is for you:

There once was a cat
Who was very fat
Annoying as a gnat
Acted like a brat
I wish she was a rat.