I am not sure why Jamie thinks she can type poetry. Dogs are dumb, and dog poetry is even dumber. REAL poetry is written by geniuses and cats, and geniuses who live with cats. Why, our bones and our bodies have a natural, slinky rhythm, so the very feline existence is in essence a living, breathing, form of poetry!
However, because of that dumb spaniel-pest I must now grace your with my purposeful paws, so here goes:
The Perfect Poem By A Perfect Cat
I hate it when the spring wind blows.
It ruffles my fur and chills my toes.
Sometimes wind has an annoying whistle
That makes my beautiful tail start to bristle.
The chilly wind ruins the warmth of the sun–
And yet you children think that it’s fun!
You take string and paper and call it a kite
And you rush into that awful breeze I don’t like.
You send your toys up into the wind
And that is where the trouble begins.
Kite strings cross and cut each other,
Arguments start between sister and brother.
Whose kite is better?
Whose design has most flair?
When it comes down to it
I really don’t care.
The wind you love
Just ruins my day,
And that is all I have to say.
So please, young human,
Just go away!
So, now you know how I feel. You humans can play in the wind all you like. I’m staying inside on my nice comfy cushion, perfectly situated in the sunlight. Now leave me alone. I need to nap.