“Mom, it’s story time.” Kiki and Allen rang out in a purry chorus.
Still half-asleep, I padded over to the bookshelf for our copy of Caterly Tales. “How about a poem today?”
“No, this one is about a kitty who used to live here before either of you were born. She was a gray and black tabby cat, who loved to lounge out on the deck outside my bedroom.”
“You mean the deck where you won’t let us go?”
“That’s the one. One of the kitties here got too good at jumping from the deck onto the trees and climbing down into the yard, and then she couldn’t figure out how to get back. I don’t like our kitties running around in the yard because sometimes there are bad guys out there.”
“You mean like ducks?”
“Mostly I am worried about coyotes and mountain lions and bears. They all live around here, too, and sometimes they wander about in yards looking for tasty small critters to have for dinner. Best to not have to worry about you being out there.”
My furries were growing antsy. “So, what happened to this pootie who liked to be out on the deck?”
“Well, here’s a poem about what happened one day. It’s called “Drama on the Deck.”
“Mmmm,” crooned Allen. That sounds like fun.”
Drama on the Deck
On the deck
outside my bedroom
my seventeen-year-old tabby sleeps
curled up
beneath a chair
A frisky backyard squirrel
climbs onto the deck
looking for adventure
furry tail wrapped
around the railing
front paws
below on the post
ready to jump onto the floor
until
he spots the cat
Backing up
onto the rail top
he darts quickly
until he has kitty
in full view
His sleek body turns to face her
muscles tense
beady eyes focused
on the gray bunch of fur
under the chair
Wide squirrel tail
fur now puffed up
starts to undulate
up and down
up and down
The cat
sensing something afoot
opens her eyes
lifts her head
and watches the squirrel
Then
being an old cat
realizing she has seen it all before
she curls up a little tighter
and goes back to sleep
“And that’s all there is to that tale.”
Allen and Kiki mumbled to one another. “Oh, I wish I had been there. It would have been fun to chase that squirrel.”
“Yeah, all we ever get to do is chitter at them out the window.”
. . .
