Updated: Oct 5
So, after a few days of social media raining down tips and tricks for the best way to spend our time during the Covid19 quarantine (my previous post included) I decided not to do another one of those. I, for one, am feeling somewhat saturated with home improvement ideas and self-improvement ideas. Now, I want a little silliness.
Instead of any tips, tricks, or recommendations, I have something that is both ridiculous and sublime. I cannot take credit for it, however. The author of what you are about to read is my cat, Ms. B. Kitteh. She writes poetry between naps. She's a magnificent little tyrant who dominates our dogs and regularly lets us know where we have room for growth and improvement.
So without further ado, I present you with one of her works:
(Note: Best if read in the accent of an English royal from fifty years ago.)
Thou still unopened can of fish
Thou as yet unattain-ed joy
Delectable, fragrant, elusive dish
With my emotions doth thou toy
Why must there be a need for thumbs
To ravish thy dear ecstasy?
The need for human aid is dumb
for Cat, old Egypt's deity.
My humans, simple as they are,
Hold a fondness in my heart.
Their thumbs are needed, to be sure,
To open cans of culinary art.
My people are devoted serfs
To my sublime divinity
Their baseness can get on my nerves
But they honor my felinity.
Each evening at five on the dot
Their thumbs are put to blessed use
Opening gravied, fishy pots
On which I let myself let loose.
Perhaps the worship of the Kitteh
Is less solemn than in ancient rites
but the lack of holy city
has not dimmed our sacred light.
The modern human --thumbs and mind
Though lacking throne and priests
Understand that kitty-kind
Are still the same divine, wild beasts.
Narcissism aside, I think she has a gift.
Happy quarantine! Stay healthy, everybody!
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