CAT (a smelly memorial poem)
CAT
Time to eat - no time for play.
CAT caught a mouse - ate right away.
The pity was her meal had gorged
upon the kitchen's garlic hoard,
and so it was, on mousie's death,
CAT contracted real bad breath.
CAT, not knowing that she stank,
went boyfriend-hunting while still rank.
Katty-Fatty quit his breathing -
“CAT, whatever were you teething?
You stink like cats from Napoli.
It's garlic stench, unhappily.”
CAT slunk away now very chastened.
“Quick, a tooth brush,” and she hastened.
"I have to get this bad smell out
so's Katty-Fatty'll quit his pout.
'Ain't fair my mousie played such tricks.
That awful garlic smell sure sticks.”
The sun went down.The moon came up.
CAT, still stinky, ate her sup -
peppermints and wintergreens -
smell-good stuff, no in-betweens.
Katty-Fatty, a tough impress,
but CAT, less garlic, had success.
Today CAT tells her sons and daughters,
“Things you do and some don't-oughters:
When you set out on mouse-fetching
understand what you'll be catching.
Mousies all look fine and tasty,
but some eat garlic. Don't be hasty.”
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It is not that I have become lazy, but this was originally for "Cat," and "Cat" is now "Late Cat." The only other cat with which I have had any sort of memorable relationship was the one my wife and daughter brought home and kept around the place so as to eat the plastic tips off of my poor shoelaces. That earlier cat has now been joined with "this" cat in wherever they go when they leave us to our own devices here on Earth.
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