Furry ventriloquism 

I never knew what cats were thinking, until my teenaged daughter started “rescuing” them, one by one, and bringing them home.  In one case, it was a clandestine operation involving a smuggle under her jacket, and a fait accompli when we arrived.

Like many Dads, I found it hard to stay mad for very long, and actually was secretly amused by the lengths to which she would go to get these fleabags in the door.
Ahem, one of them actually was a fleabag.  This was the smuggled one, and it came from her aunt’s place, who once (when asked how many cats she had) said “several”.  Really, it was about 30, so this was classified as a rescue.  Apparently, her Mom knew about it beforehand, and was in cahoots.  When produced from inside her jacket, it was already scratching and had sores on its chin…..vet visit the very next day.

Once we had domesticated these things, it became my daughter’s habit to amuse everyone by devising clever things that she thought each cat would say in a given situation, then (with a straight face) speak the lines in a voice which was a dead ringer for the Gingerbread Man from Shrek.

It nearly made me pee myself, and, of course, this encouraged her.  So, for the few more years that she lived at home, I got so used to it that I almost found myself wanting to have a conversation with the silly things.

When it finally came time for her to go on her own, she left them with us.
We were standing at the door to see her off, and my tears started to roll.
All I could think of to say was “Now, how am I going to know what the cats are thinking?”

No rest for the wicked

now I lay me down to sleep
there’s no more noises, not a peep
the shades are pulled, the light is out
and slumber’s what it’s all about

fluff the pillow, warm the feet
Sin’s solicitations meet
mantras said to calm the mind
gently will the stress unwind

in five or ten or twenty three
‘Tis the latter, I gotta pee
back in bed and pull the cover
then read a book, my secret lover

start to yawn, and eyelids droop
but I’m hungry for a bowl of soup
hit the kitchen, scratch my head
the wife is bitchin’,
“go to bed!”

so once again I scratch my noggin
think of more ideas for bloggin’
get the tablet, write the story
and then I’ll never have to worry

so now it’s finished, nicely done
I’m sure it will be number one
Martians and a teenage girl
whose empathy may save the world

I check the clock, my God it’s three!
whatever has come over me?
I’ve gotta drive the wife to work
(So, better get to sleep. You jerk)

Salt Sea Calm

I heard that they will float you
In a sea of Epsom Salt
To ease away your tension
And things that aren’t your fault

You’re naked, with a blindfold
The water is just right
Then the doctors mention
“Do not put up a fight”.

“We’ll use you as a guinea pig
To get our readings true.
They will defy convention,
And we’ll be famous, too!”

At last you’re disconnected
From all that you can sense.
Your body’s forced attention
Is now in the past tense.

It’s only mind and ego
And the longer that you stay
You’re calmed by this invention
All troubles melt away.

picture credit to:  https://floathouse.ca/blog-archive/float-tanks-within-cognitive-science



More cat trouble

just outside my bedroom door
that little beggar waits
it’s finished all the bowls of food
and licked the empty plates

it’s pigeon-toed and cross-eyed
a ghastly sight to see
belly drags upon the floor
and a gaze that’s fixed on me

I think it has a pocket watch
(it always knows the time)
and sidles to my bedroom door
upon the stroke of nine

anticipation’s in its eye
(the left one, so I think)
the right one sends the signals out
and neither one will blink

and so I rise, attempting to
ignore its nagging yip
I walk on past, it catches up
and tries to make me trip

every day I lose the fight
the wife, she thinks it’s funny
I think I’ll help it pack its bags
and give it bus fare money

she says we can’t have company
no more, ’cause it’s no use
if someone sees it, we’ll be charged
with animal abuse.




Marshmallow Moon

Me and my dear daughter
Are a-goin’ to the moon
She’s pilot of our spaceship
And we’ve gotta get there soon

We’re bringin’ back some samples
Of rocks an’ dymond jools
We know somebody up there
We’ve never been no fools

She fires up the thrusters
Her job, it is to land
I’m suited up and ready
To go at her command

The ‘Puter says we’re landed
Though our ship, it seems to bounce
So tipsy and unsteady
Like it didn’t weigh an ounce

We finally seem to settle
The ladder, down I climb
With shovel and a pick axe
I hope we’re here in time

Our man we knew had told us
The “Window” was so shallow
But late we were, and so the moon
Had turned into marshmallow

Animal crackers

a stork, a crane, a pelican
a leaping jumping gnu
a fish’s spiny skeleton
a pouchy kangaroo

a monkey, mink, and elephant
a cass
owary too
but daisies are not relevant
the cattle will but chew

cats and bats and dragonflies
and porky pigs and cows
and things we can’t reclassify
until the time allows

the dog, the hog, the butterfly
the hornet with its sting
the moths that only flutter by
and don’t disturb a thing

majestic hawk and eagle
the horse and donkey too
the peacock is so regal
its rainbows of the hue

the lithe and speedy antelope
the spider and the ant
but don’t include the cantaloupe
upon this list, you can’t

the mouse, the louse, the chickadee
the octopus’s arms
the crickets chirping crickety
their song, with all its charms

the lizards lurking in the dark
the marmosets that jump
the woodpecker that pecks the bark
the camel with its hump

there’s more to come, ’tis just a few
and I forgot the fox
and many more, I’m telling you
won’t fit into the box.