Our cats, they do not like the snow–
You put them out, and they say “NO!”
You bring them back–
They give you flack,
They grump and sulk–
And at bedtime, hoist their bulk
Upon our feet, our ankles and our legs–
Until at last one of us begs:
“Oh, kitties, please! It’s not our fault that we have snow,
Or that the wind around the trees does blow!”
But, being cats, they don’t believe us,
And then they fussily up and leave us.
We try and sleep the night away
And wonder why we had all these cats anyway.
The answer? It comes to us fast and faster–
We’re the slaves, and they’re the masters!