Why is it that
people think I am unlucky?
The superstitions
are getting a little old.
Black cats are beautiful
black cats are bold.
Setting the record straight,
we aren’t responsible
for these misfortunes
that you hold.
You are your own
cause of bad luck
so leave us alone.
The real lyrics to the songs you all know and love…
Hey, I just ate you,
And it was tasty
Now it’s nap time
Don’t call me a baby.
Cause I’m hot then I’m cold
I’m yes then I’m no
I’m in then I’m out
I’m up then I’m down
Never wrong, always, right
I’m black and I’m white
I sleep, I dream up
Eat grass, I throw up.
Let it go, let it go
Can’t hold my prey anymore
Let it go, let it go
then chase it through the door
I don’t care
what a mess I’ll make
Let the rat run on
I always catch ’em anyway.
I planned on sharing something else with you all today, but I didn’t do my homework. Now, you get a nice procrastination poem instead. Enjoy!
Those wide eyes burn
right through my soul.
Do they ask for love
needed to fill a hole?
How can I help?
What do you need?
Your quiet meows
state the case you plead.
You can share with me
anything in your head.
Oh, what’s that?
You threw up in my bed?
The snow doth fall
upon the frozen leaves;
the first sign of winter
this marks, one may believe.
Wise as ever, the cat knows
winter grows ever near
but, snow covered critters
are delicious still, never fear.
My people seem to think that I love being sung to. They have a song for this and a song for that and speak to me as if I am a child. Well I have news for them, I am a dignified, 5-year-old woman. So when they sing to me those little rhymes, this is what I am really thinking.
I don’t want to be a baby cat,
I don’t like to be a baby cat,
I am surely not your baby cat,
but I can be a killer cat.
meow, meow, meow
meow, meow, mao.
Licky, licky, sticky, sticky, picky, picky…
just put my damn food down so I can eat it.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….oh, you said something?
You want to go for a walk?
Go outside and see the birds?
Tend to the gardens?
No, I just want a fish.
I love it when they have things to do
and they leave me by my lonesome.
I sit and watch my birds
and dream all day through.
But then there comes a time
when my solitude becomes a bore
and I have to find those people for food;
that’s all they are good for.
There are very few times
when a cat wants to be seen.
If your attention is needed,
you will know what I mean.
When I am napping and hunting
or eating or sleeping
your voice is not needed
and your face not worth seeing.
I hide for a reason
and no matter how you call
I will not respond or come
I don’t look like a dog at all.
So here are the rules,
there are two times we should meet,
if ever there is poop on my butt,
or every time I need a treat.
What could be better
than a field full of mice?
A stream full of fish
could be just as nice.
A wide open field
where a cat could play.
Grasses so green
I could eat them all day.
How busy I would be
but when all is said and done
I could curl up and nap
and bathe in the sun.
Oh, how splendid
this dream may be
until I awake to
my imprisoned reality.
Change is good they say
as they re-arrange their way.
Move this here and put that there,
they think a cat can sleep just anywhere?
And as the final piece falls into place
and what once was has no trace,
they admire their work with pride
but all I see, are eight new places to hide.
I could feel his beady eyes watching my every move. Here he was, some piece of vermin thinking he could outwit me. I was not only the biggest cat in town, but the most dangerous and if there was one thing I absolutely did not tolerate, it was a rat.
I should have known not to trust this guy from day one. Thing is, around here, we look out for our own kind. It was surprising enough I suppose that he was willing to give up his family that easily, but times were rough for everyone and he kept food on the table for us, or rather under the table.
That night though, I was on the prowl.
“Al? I know you are in here.” My voice wailed through the abandoned shed. It may have seemed like I was the only one in here, but I knew all of Al’s hiding places. There was no hole in the wall in this town that he could hide in which I wouldn’t be able to find him. He must have known this when he decided to betray me. Without me, he never would have made any cheese. He would have been living a life of constant fear in absolute squalor. Well he might have enjoyed that last part.
Clink, Clink!
I turned quickly and got really low with my weapons drawn. I would have given anything to sink my claws into him at that moment. Then, I saw him as he scurried behind some boxes. I quietly positioned myself so there was no chance for him to escape. I had him cornered now. This felt like old times.
It was not long ago when we first met and were in the same position. I was about to go in for the kill when I heard this little pip-squeak.
“Wait, I can help you,” he sobbed. I stopped myself just in time.
“Carry on then, how can you help me?” I replied.
“I can tell you where everyone you are looking for is hiding. Where they live. When they will be there. Everything. Please, just spare my life.”
And so began the unlikely partnership that would now end just as it had started. Here we were again and this time I would not be so understanding.
“Any last words, Rat?”
“Please, just kill me. I am tired of this maze.” I raised my paw to strike and just then a bright light flickered on making my eyes adjust. Just as I saw my target tailing it out of there, I heard what no cat wants to hear,
“Come on Emilita, it’s time for bed. What are you doing out here anyway? If we go now, I can comb you before bed!”
And in one fell swoop, my life of crime had landed me right back in the slammer.
Autumn Siders 