a night and a day in the life of a cat without a cat-flap by Val Pedrick

for Brin 

as autumn nights draw in

our cat, flat, black against

frosted back door, flashes

peridot eyes; pats

pleading paws on glass:

‘Let me, in, niaow, purr-lease!’

 

in bed by eleven,

cat flat between us;

purrs serenade sleep, but

visits to the loo at midnight,

one, and then, two, disturb her:

‘Let me, sleep, niaow, purr-lease!’

 

four a.m. flying cat clatters at

bedside – one of us – is oblivious!

I rise, don slippers and robe;

top of the stairs, puss pauses- for effect,

trots down, another pause, licks paws:

‘Let me, out, niaow, purr-lease!’

 

alarmed at six-thirty for work;

one of us – (me) – is oblivious;

sleepy-head, breakfasts

in bed; worker dresses and

leaves, calls, ‘puss at the door, get up!’

‘Let me, in, niaow, purr-lease!’

 

escorted to kitchen and fed, cat

runs, jumps onto bed, flops flat

for a fuss, quick wash, then snores …

to tackle the chores, I rise, while

velvet paws fold furry face and flat-cat sighs:

‘Let me, sleep, niaow, purr-lease!’

 

worker returns, for croissants and lunch,

cats stirs for her ‘crunch’, selects a spot

in the flat for her post-prandial nap, then

clicks at the carpet, when it’s time to go out;

a flick of the tail, gallop, trit, trot, downstairs:

‘Let me, out, niaow, purr-lease!’

 

in the cat-flat without a cat-flap,

flat-cat pops out and in for drinks

and snacks; a tiny, cold snout nuzzles

our knees, to say ‘ta’ – (“a-a-ah”)

for leaving our flat-door ajar:

‘Let me, in and out, niaow, when I, purr-lease!’