soothing the savage beast

Mister whiskers jumps up in my lap
Does everything but hand me the comb
Ah, now it’s time!
A mutual love-in.
We both take pleasure from this ritual.
He, with his whirring motor running
and his dribbling drool
as I do the mandatory stroking.
His inner lids half closed in nirvana.
He turns to face me so I can get to more places,
when oops! wrong place.
He strikes with the swiftness of a cobra,
and I have a bloody nose now.
Little bastard.

3 thoughts on “soothing the savage beast

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  1. Haha! Cats really are savage! Several years ago, I was petting my friend’s cat, Starsky, and touched her in the wrong spot and received a slash up along my forearm. It was pretty hard to explain to people that it was caused by a cat!

    Liked by 1 person

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