Brought her a gift again this morning

and she got really stroppy.

I guess there wasn’t much meat on it,

but it’s the thought that counts, right?

I mean, she feeds me,

so it’s only right that I share the odd mouse.

Noblesse oblige, don’t you know.

 

Maybe she prefers white meat.

Perhaps I should’ve brought that pigeon after all.

There were so many feathers though,

she’d have gone mad

and brought out that loud thing

she pushes round all the time.

 

Its screeching scares me,

though I can’t let her know that.

Each time she heads for its cupboard

I know it’s time to make myself scarce.

In ceremonial style, naturally;

nose and tail high,

and full formal strut.

Just till I’m out of sight,

then break into pursuit mode.

 

Oops, sorry diary!

She fetched it out just now.

I had to make tracks

through my personal escape hatch.

 

While I was outside,

I checked round the scent messages

to see who was about.

That stray’s been here again;

such an interesting bouquet.

 

Next door’s canine was in their garden,

so I perched on the fence

and growled at him.

It drives him barking mad – such fun.

 

The racket indoors has stopped.

All this has given me an appetite;

wonder if she’s filled my bowl yet?

As staff go, my human’s not too bad.