A hole in one! The noble beast
wants no one else to clutch it,
but the ball’s all sog,
there’s no way, dog,
that I would even touch it!
This is Andie, the newest addition to the Lucky Dog Society. She has not yet figured out that I do not do dog slobber, and she thinks I actually WANT that ball. Not a chance.
Live trees with their fragrant cachet
aren’t meant for a feline sashay,
but when Willis the dog
gets the cat all agog
the tree can’t get out of the way.
Thanks to photographer Eugenia Roche.
They call him Fat Freddie
I think it’s a shame
a little more dignity
should attach to a name.
But in model comportment
he rises above
curled into the naps
he gets plenty of.
Tucked into himself
his postures astound —
would I sleep better
if I made myself round?
When the world’s an endless chase
with humans everywhere
it’s good to have a place
to go for head repair.
This message brought to you by Hannah,
my former gorgeous glossy if somewhat haughty neighbor.
People, meaning well,
say I should have a pet.
Little do they know
I have the best one yet.
Meet my pet geranium:
content in sunny latitude
it contemplates the weather
in vaguely feline attitude.
It may not twitch a tail
nuzzle, wag, or purr,
but I don’t have to walk it
or vacuum up its fur.
My friends are quite like-minded
and, taller than they by half,
is their twining placid rosy
pet bougainvillea giraffe.
With thanks again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
Oddments 