I do not like them, not at all. <br />Their feline nature drives me mad, <br />in Summer, Winter, Spring and Fall <br />our cat, named Lucy made me sad. <br />She had the personality <br />of an anointed queen, <br />but every day reality <br />showed that she was quite keen <br />to mingle with the common folk <br />and rabblerouse all night, <br />dead mice and birds, oh what a joke, <br />were waiting in daylight <br />on our breakfast table often <br />half-chewed and bloody skins to boot, <br />she'd munched on them to slightly soften <br />the insides of this yummy food. <br />She scratched all items in the house <br />and poked her claw in Rover's eye, <br />she would have left had not the spouse <br />decreed to have another try. <br />A training program was begun, <br />the two spent hours learning rules <br />and I came home to utter fun <br />of cat behaviour, we were fools. <br />And then one day the vet said 'sorry', <br />at twenty she was very old, <br />'I'd say this is her final story', <br />it left the family dead cold. <br /> <br />And then she died on Sunday night, <br />was buried near our Bunya Pine. <br />For weeks I didn't feel quite right, <br />and there she sleeps, that cat of mine.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cats-4/
