A Day In My Life
I'm a tomcat named D'Artagnan. It's 3:00 in the morning. My master -
ha! ha! fat chance - has just gone to bed. Now I'm feeling hyper. I feel
like running and jumping. Playing with my toys and inhaling catnip. Can you
believe it? That idiot Chris Steele is turning me into a drug addict.
Well, I'm through now. Ten minutes of intense physical activity and
I'm ready for a long snooze. I think I'll go over and lie next to Chris. It
makes him feel wanted.
Morning. Look at him. Just waking up. Morning! Really. Noon or
later and that's morning for my human. It's time to drive him crazy until he
gives me exactly what I want. Look at him! He's stumbling around. He can't
see. All he wants is a cigarette and a cup of coffee. And to get his eyes
open. But he has to feed me first. I'm on a deli-chopped ham and tuna
catfood kick right now. In a while, I'll change my mind and he'll go crazy
trying to figure out exactly what I want. The sucker! I got him wrapped
around my little paw.
Meow! Meow!
But I love him. I guess I really do. He likes to pet me and I like to
be petted. I could have my chin scratched for an hour at a time. And I love
to have my belly rubbed.
6:00 and Chris Steele has just finished doing his second meditation and
watching Hollywood Squares. Wow! Now it's time for food again. Meow! Meow!
Gimme my food, just the food I want, you guy or I'll break your heart. So he
feeds me what I want and makes me happy and he's happy seeing me happy. I do
this guy a great service by giving him someone's needs to be concerned with
besides his own.
It's 11:00 or midnight and Chris is in the mood for a snack. So am I.
Boy it feels good to have a full belly. Maybe I'll watch some late night
T.V. This guy has cable. Maybe I'll get to see a naked pussy cat.
It's 3:00 in the morning again. Master -- ha! ha! -- has just gone to
bed. And I'm in the mood to dance. It's a HELL of a life. Purrrr!
Note: This poem is about a cat I used to have. I expect he's gallumphing around in Heaven now, having a great time. I have another cat, now. She's wonderful too. But I haven't been able to write a poem about her.
Copyright Christopher Steele
I'm a tomcat named D'Artagnan. It's 3:00 in the morning. My master -
ha! ha! fat chance - has just gone to bed. Now I'm feeling hyper. I feel
like running and jumping. Playing with my toys and inhaling catnip. Can you
believe it? That idiot Chris Steele is turning me into a drug addict.
Well, I'm through now. Ten minutes of intense physical activity and
I'm ready for a long snooze. I think I'll go over and lie next to Chris. It
makes him feel wanted.
Morning. Look at him. Just waking up. Morning! Really. Noon or
later and that's morning for my human. It's time to drive him crazy until he
gives me exactly what I want. Look at him! He's stumbling around. He can't
see. All he wants is a cigarette and a cup of coffee. And to get his eyes
open. But he has to feed me first. I'm on a deli-chopped ham and tuna
catfood kick right now. In a while, I'll change my mind and he'll go crazy
trying to figure out exactly what I want. The sucker! I got him wrapped
around my little paw.
Meow! Meow!
But I love him. I guess I really do. He likes to pet me and I like to
be petted. I could have my chin scratched for an hour at a time. And I love
to have my belly rubbed.
6:00 and Chris Steele has just finished doing his second meditation and
watching Hollywood Squares. Wow! Now it's time for food again. Meow! Meow!
Gimme my food, just the food I want, you guy or I'll break your heart. So he
feeds me what I want and makes me happy and he's happy seeing me happy. I do
this guy a great service by giving him someone's needs to be concerned with
besides his own.
It's 11:00 or midnight and Chris is in the mood for a snack. So am I.
Boy it feels good to have a full belly. Maybe I'll watch some late night
T.V. This guy has cable. Maybe I'll get to see a naked pussy cat.
It's 3:00 in the morning again. Master -- ha! ha! -- has just gone to
bed. And I'm in the mood to dance. It's a HELL of a life. Purrrr!
Note: This poem is about a cat I used to have. I expect he's gallumphing around in Heaven now, having a great time. I have another cat, now. She's wonderful too. But I haven't been able to write a poem about her.
Copyright Christopher Steele
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
(I figure our cats think much the same when it's bed time for us. Only difference is that it would be something along the lines of "let's run through the house and fast as we can stomping all of our paws to sound like a heard of wildabeasts. Silly humans think they can sleep"