The Cat

Stuffy nose. Cough. Sneeze. Spit.

At the mercy of a ginger-haired tyrant

Anxious to be liked

So I blink slowly at his yellow eyes

Signalling I'm a friend. I hope?

He smells my desperation

Is that a sneer? Am I mad?

He scratches, then he purrs

I mix his food, change his litter

His faithful butler at the door

Open. Close. In. Out.

Meow of dissatisfaction.

He kneads my lap, purring,

then scratches my leg in the dark.