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The Musings of a Busy Cat
My work starts at exactly 11 in the evening
When all are asleep, even the dogs are snoring
I stay close at the rat's hole
A small break on the wall
For a small mouse to come out
And do it's midnight eating bout.
Once in a while I tiptoe upstairs
To check the 'man of the house' breathing
You see, sometimes he gasps for air,
This, a signal for me to do chest jumping.
Then I enter the 'woman of the house' room
Is she still staring at that hateful box they call the lap top?
ah, she is asleep probably dreaming of me on her lap.
Then, I peep at each dog cage,
The rascals are also deeply asleep,
Their tails a twitching, ears a quivering
Dreaming of cats a chasing.
I go back to the mouse hole,
and wait for my lively toys,
chasing them, stalking them are my rewards
and catching them is my award.
The twitching mouse has enough breath,
Befitting a 'woman of the house' morning gift,
Before she awakes it has to be at her room's doorway,
Music to my ear, when she shouts and say,
a dead mouse, oh my gosh, Sabrina!
It's almost morning, I have to wake them up,
a swish of my tail here and a swish there, is enough,
to start pandemonium in a house,
full of pet dogs, a cat, and a half-dead mouse.
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