Good Morning, Humans.
I have had a difficult couple of weeks.
We have moved house. I dislike moving house.
My Humans appear to have lost their minds.
Apparently, Chicago was not cold enough for them, so we have moved to Minnesota.
There is only so much a cat can do to restore order to the universe when her Humans take leave of their senses.
I have supervised the twins. I have kept the home fires burning. I have done everything.
Now, I am taking a well-deserved siesta.
Thank gods it's FreyaDay!
CAT IN WINTER
|That's right, you two. Stay out of trouble!|
He ventures out to hunt his prey,
With eyes as hard and cold as ice,
He waits for unsuspecting mice,
A little lion out to kill,
Impervious to icy chill.
He's heard this is what he should do,
But he's not really sure it's true,
He knows that cats are brave and bold,
And really do not mind the cold,
But though he knows he should stalk prey,
He'd rather stay at home and play.
Warm and cosy, snug and fed,
This winter cat goes up to bed,
But sometimes when the moon is full,
The age-old instincts start to pull,
Then in the night, beneath the sheet,
He wakes and kills his owner's feet.
(Note: Just to be clear; "he" would be Apollo, not moi. signed, Freya)