What a commotion she makes when her sister goes missing
Even though when they’re paired there’s often much hissing
Rooower! Rooower! Scout calls as she wanders
Come out! Right now! Where are you? She ponders.
When finally lured from her best hiding place
Patches stretches long, with disdain on her face.
Dear sister, Patches yawns, I was here all along
Why did you disturb me with your strident song?
But Scout is oblivious having now claimed
The comfortable spot on which Patches had lain.
Studly Doright and I were chilling out at Doright Manor. We’d just purchased season 1 of Fargo and had settled in to watch. Studly had the white fuzzy throw on his lap, and I had plucked our newest crocheted throw off the back of the sofa to keep things cozy. Soon Scout, our elder cat, settled herself on my lap and began purring.
That’s when Patches lost it. Our normally timid younger kitty ran around like a mini-banshee, howling and scratching, shaking with fury. After tearing around the den for three full minutes she finally stopped her tirade and sat glaring at us from under the Christmas tree. Studly and I watched in amused bewilderment. Bemuserment, if you will.
Then it occurred to me that Patches had claimed the new throw. In fact, she’d been napping on it nonstop almost from the moment we brought it home from the Christmas party where we’d been fortunate enough to win it.
Patches was pissed that Scout was snuggled on the throw she’d claimed as her own. Like any younger sibling who’d been deprived of her favorite blankie Patches was throwing a tantrum.
Once we figured out the cause of distress I eased Scout from my lap and returned the throw to Patches who snuggled down immediately. Now Scout is peacefully sleeping near the tree and all is right with our world at Doright Manor.
Peace, people!
My youngest brother Brent, or “Brentia” as we used to call him back when we pretended he was a baby sister, was one of only three friends who participated in my first annual “Guess the Arrival Time of the Comcast Cable Installer and Win a Poem in Your Honor” contest.
Amazingly, having given us a window of between 5 and 7 on Saturday evening the cable guy rang our doorbell at 5 p.m., and while none of my guessers came very close to being correct, Brent’s prediction of 6:45 p.m. beat out the others. Brent, I hope you enjoy your poem. I wrote it from the heart. 😉
“Brent’s Poem”
Hey, baby brother
You didn’t know,
but this is true
when you were born
I wasn’t crazy about you.
I was seven;
you were a pain,
too cute for words
while i was plain,
but you grew on me
as the years went by
like moss or mildew
you’re a real fungi.
Love you little brother!
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 