“Better not to keep all your cars in one basket” Gun Roswell
The cat in the basket
Put the tiny cat in a small basket and that Would be fun way to go out to the market The fish being the only and ultimate target As the small cat, does not care about new hats But she likes to eat, and the real kings of treat Would definitely be a stew made up so neat Filled only with the good kind of meats The fishy kind of you know what I mean So hurry the heck up and do not puff too much The market place usually closes at eight Do better not be late or there will be hell to pay And that is not the way to slay your way To the tiny kittens heart so be ver smart And go git and buy that precious gift already!
“The looks of grumpiness, doesn’t always mean, that the mood reflects the face” Gun Roswell
Grumpier Caturday
Sitting there, on the floor, looking, oh so very bored, so much so, that some might say, it was grumpy, without any kind of funky thing to do. After all, this was the one day of the week, where celebrating the feline freak, was supposed to be that special beat, which the cats and kitties marched by. But today, there was no big smile, on the furry face, definitely not a wagging tail, only a feeling of epic fail. What could be a cause of such distain? Something which certainly needed to be fixed in a hurry right away.
The keeper of the sad cat, wondered of the exact topic, for a moment, before coming up with a kind of a plan, which she hoped, would get the mood of the furry feline turn from uninterested sleeping to a happier stand. So, the first thing, was to get some treats together, meaning the best kind of fish forever. Then, some cool toys to play with, a few moments the spirits to uplift. And the final treat, well, isn’t that obvious for a Caturday ball? A big bag of catnip served, from the finest of colourful bowls, and wouldn’t you know it, after the rattling of the tuna can top, the grumpy cat, came running around the corner, clearly gone was the sad and replaced by loud purring cheers, all around the keepers feet.
“A cat writing and sipping coffee? Yes, well, like cat keeper, like feline, it’s all good and fine” Gun Roswell
Photo credit Cats of Instagram
The cat who wrote books
With her specs on, and coffee beside there, quite strong, the tabby cat, in her comfortable pullover and hat, neatly sat. The page in front, still empty, but it would not take too long, especially after the dark liquid kicked in, for something really good to come forth. After all, this was not her first round with the ink and blank paper, as several stories already written stood on the bookshelf alone. But this one would be very special, as it was going to about role reversals. A biography of sorts, she made a slight snort, a laughing sound in a kitty cat way, as she turned to look, on the sleepy face, purring contently right beside her. The once keeper, now a content pet, the Hooman of a female, who had this cat let, out of her box and now, the lot, would have the privilege, of reading all them booklets, written by the very cat, who on the bedside sat, sipping coffee and typing with a flow the next number one best seller which would everyones minds blow.
“As cute as that can be, must have a great profile too for all to see“ Gun Roswell
A cats profile
A quite cute and totally sassy cat On the tallest of tables, silently sat Like some kind, of a cherished statue From our very own past at that The historical kind of an artefact
But no matter, how much of a purfect The fur, the face, and the actual stance Surely, it was that one very simple fact That the cute profile, even from a glance Was surely, that of a goddess, to last
Alas, the quite cute, sassy cat, who sat Did, not really, much care, of all of that But, just wanting to be, so worshiped Like some pretty flower, that of a tulip And with that kind of a totally great profile Who would, not want to do that, and smile
“The black cat, helping a striped cat, well now, that is true team work!” Gun Roswell
Help me up, wont you (Caturday)
There was something very interesting definitely there, on the window sill As the two small size cats, kittens really, now on the floor, circled around, at will Trying to get up, with still growing but short legs still, was quite the feat tough And even trying to very hard to hop, hop, hop off of, the very flat ground It seemed impossible to get up there, where something great was to be found But neither of them succeeding, on their own, so what to do now, they frowned Then a thought, came to the others mind, maybe working together was fine Even if they both competed with each other for every single little thing in kind But this time, maybe it was enough, if one of them reached on the very top And then the other would know too, what it was so interesting up and out there Which was intruding their very own domain, and threatening, just of the same And then the smaller one pushed the bigger one, with a huff, on to the very ledge Urging him to seek, search and then, to destroy, what ever it was disturbing their day As the bigger cat got up, he turned back with a huff and a puff, as the only thing Was a small spider, weaving its web while singing, and now already out of reach For the small cat and his friend, whom, so eagerly had for big game tried to seek
“What a total bust!” The striped cat told the black cat, “Just a small spider, alas!”
“Yeah, all for nothing, that huffing and puffing!” The black cat told the striped cat. “But when we tell this story to the others, it was some kind of a big elephant or tiger, which we fought really hard against.” She then added.
“Agreed!” Said the striped cat, “And next time, I will let you be the one to go see.” He stated as the two of the strolled back to the litter, to tell a great story of two hunters, they were, slaying wild game without hesitance or even one flicker.
“The sun was shining as per usual, reflecting warmth, over the tops” Gun Roswell
Sunshine Cat
The tiny cat, in the warming sunshine sat Without even wearing, one simple kind of hat Alas That is really not exactly the real catch Of this tiny of a tale of the sunshine cat
The point being, it is always so completely warm Especially, after that cold and rainy storm As a fact That is why the cat, decided on that spot To sit and fully the rays in soak, on that dot
So leave it to the furry feline kinds of friends To find the best places themselves to mend A cat In the sunshine, simply, enjoying the sunshine And in all of our own minds, that is what we too want
“There is always the need, for a new pair of shoes, even if the closet is full“ Gun Roswell
Shopping for Shoes Cats part 1
“Madam, really wanted new shoes, So she sent me out to scout, win or lose, But, what is, a poor kitty to do? I know absolutely nothing, of them tools I’m just a poor cat, without any kind of those Things, on my own furry and neatly trimmed toes”
The confused cat, on the corner of the shopping street sat As it had been sent out, by her mistress no less, in a doubt Now, as what to look for, as his poor paws, never needed Any kind of footwear, at least, not since the one specific incident On the season of Christmas, when his mistress, had smiled and Some knitted clothing on his person without warning to try
“Shoes, shoes, shoes… I have not got any kind of clues, Maybe these, flip flop types, here I see No socks needed, although, during winter They aren’t exactly that heated Alright, next shop, on my way!”
It really might take all of the day, for this cat, now looking for a prey But not for mice or anything nice, not at least for him, even with trying To find the perfectly fitting footwear, for the mistress, he did care Because all those rewards given to him, from the keeper who did sing The praise of this furry feline, and always, always was to him so kind So, getting the most fitting pair, was going to be the reward for her
“I am going to get those shiny sandals I saw, Just around the corner, in that one footwear selling store, I think they will fit her nicely, with that gold dress spicy, Then she will give me so many kisses and hugs, And then I will sleep in front of the fire on the rug, After eating all the fish, she has for me made as a dish!”
So, the cat on the prowl, went inside the store with a howl Meow, he stated and pointed at the one pair nicely painted The shopkeeper packing them up, and accepting the payment without a huff On his way, the cat did so, with a bag and and a nice sway Surprising his mistress, with a great pair of shoes no less And as per suspected, he was rewarded with all the things without stress
“Thar be cats of plenty, thar, in that row over thar, see?”“ Gun Roswell
Cats, in a row
One cat, two cats, three cats, in a neat row One of them, soon, the others will try to tow Because this is not a boat with oars to row
But that is neither here nor even there for this ditty As the most important thing in this are the kitties So, before this turns to something completely shitty
Moving along then, some rhyme finding…
The cats now neatly sitting, each other, are licking Still in a tight formation, from that never slipping They groom, they purr, they love, they slur, they sleep
This is a family of three, a kitty litter by all means Tight together, through thick and thin, or so it seems When, food time beckons, the matter all forgotten
Then each of them trying to rush and get to the plate To make sure they get the best treats before it’s too late Even if there is always plenty of grub to consume
But it is what it is, as there will be no trouble blooming Since the eldest of them, always gets first bite without assuming And the peace between these three, is kept without a miss
“There is always room, for one more cat in the litter, even if it gets a tad hairy sometimes” Gun Roswell
Step up Cat
Up the stairs, the tabby cat stepped Gingerly, without hesitation, it self let Inside the house, with smells of good Yes, it was, definitely, after the food
But the soft purring and determination Brought this tiny cat to the elevation Of a needed being inside the dwelling And so, without screaming and yelling
The tabby cat, who had landed a pad With much snacks and all them pats It could possibly ever needed in nine Times of life it still had, and that was a fact
“Celebrate the day of the cat, on a Saturday at that, but then again, every day, is Caturday for me” Gun Roswell
Grey Cat
The suave and sophisticated, completely, grey coated cat Was on her way towards the marketplace, with a slow scat She was the queen of her street, this busy, oneway leap But no matter how short or tall, this was her domain, after all
Greeting each and every passer by, with a loud and proud meow Getting patted along the way, even some treats, on the play When the afternoon clock finally beckoned, she was there reckoning To catch some fresh fish, from the sellers giving her the dish
Why, you may ask, was this grey coated cat, so completely sure Well, her main goal, may not have been as pristine and pure But, keeping all the mice and other crawly critters at bay Was her job now, so knowing that, she fully accepted her pay
She trotted down, keeping an eye on the eternal crowds And when spotting a shop with those smelly types of crops She was noticed and royally rewarded, for all the hard work As no rodent was insight, and that brought forth big smiles
The shop owners of the small village, were for ever grateful Of this small and furry feline, always on the hunt and prowl Keeping their habitat completely pleasant and germ free And she only demanding, such a small and easy to pay fee
Rantings Of A Third Kind 