"Dogs have owners, Cats have staff."

          


This Might Be About My Cats

My house mates are Winston, who is Joel Grey in Cabaret

And Oliver, a Buddhist monk in meditation

Occasionally they mix it up when Winston decides to

Interrupt Oliver’s annoying calm

For the most part tho’, they lay about like fine Dresden

Sculptures, superior in their artfulness

When I go into the kitchen for anything,

They mystically appear and stare at me until

Compelled, I top off each food bowl- not a meow

Need be uttered

I adopted the masters on a cold December night

Each had his own appeal and

I could not choose between them

Winston, the elder, was four months old

and his brother, Oliver Twist was two months

of fluffy kitten cuteness

Winston, sleek grey with white spats and ascot

struck me as properly British, the shelter had named

him Giorgio, but I could see that he was no way Italian

And who names a kitten Sea Breeze? Really?!

Oliver Twist, a dusky tortoise shell looked every bit

the gutter snipe

It’s been a year and a half-in that time Oliver has receded

deep into Buddhist meditation and Winston has

channeled his high strung persona into a perfect Joel Grey

in Cabaret

His voice demands attention and he is the playful tease who

engages both Oliver and me

There are only two of them, they cannot procreate

The rule is: A woman must have three cats to be a crazy

old cat woman

I have only two- you do the math- I am simply a

Blank- blank woman with a couple

British roommates-one is a gentleman and the other?

Certainly a bloke/ born again Buddhist!

RMK 11/June/2015 ©