Posted in Caturday

“Cats are connoisseurs of comfort.”
― James Herriot

Tails of the Black Cat

A black cat
On the fence sat
No, not with a hat
Nor even, a rat
And none too fat

“Bring me some fish, stat”
To me she spat

“Oh won’t you look at that,
A feisty little thing of a cat!”
I said

Knowing full well,
I sooner should her have fed

She kept at me staring
With her nostrils flaring
I felt quite daring
Acting non-caring

Cautiously, approaching
With a bowl full of fish things
I could almost hear her sing
When seeing what I’d bring

Now the cat
Who was black
Who on the fence sat
Now nicely did act
And was ready,
For a quick chat