We are besieged in our garden
By a calculating Cat
Who’s decided we’re its Humans
And that’s the end of that.
It’s there every morning
Sitting in our Patio chair
And when we go to bed
It’s still sitting there.
It disappears at odd times
For various reasons of its own
But for the vast bulk of the day
We are seldom left alone.
The slightest movement on our part
Arouses it from its apparent slumber
And it’s up to the French Door
Giving us the Evil Eye Number.
We’re resisting wholeheartedly
With all our body and soul
But day by day we feel
It’s nearer getting in control.
Friends and family all tell us
There’s many worse fates than that
Of being the Chosen Carer
Of a Wily Calculating Cat.
It’s standing on the step now
Giving me that unwavering stare
Just to emphasise the point
That it’s still waiting there.
I noticed cat food on the shoppng list.
I tell Sue its not a matter of the cost.
If we just crack once and feed it
We’ll be forever lost, lost, lost.
We've brushed it and combed it
And it got a bit huffy
But at least nowadays
It's less unkempt and scruff,
And, of course it's still waiting
Patient;y out the back.
It's a tense war of nerves
As to whcch if us will crack.
