So my boyfriend’s (Matt) cat, Poppy, has had to have a trip to the vets this week. She’s fine but she’s not so pleased with the cone on her head and the fact that she’s not allowed out for the time being. This is a little comic number from her point of view. Hope you enjoy the silliness:
Only beds to lie upon and floors to scratch,
I thank thee not for putting me under house arrest.
You tickle my tummy and bribe me with treats
– how fickle you are if you think I’d fall for this.
This plastic you’ve placed around my neck to stop me from getting to that itch,
the door you’ve locked from stopping me have a good stretch.
Those birds I cry to
as my paws smear the glass to reach for their full fat breasts.
Instead I have this duck down duvet and cold wet meat – I could have the grass and soil, a branch or a fence.
you insist on my house arrest.
© LE Purse
19th August 2014