So you confronted the world….With your Truth…That had to be told…We said you were lying…Inside we were dying…You were riding bareback…Yet we took the fall….
Now we’ve put ourselves…Back together and decided…We could never trust you again…No use pretending…You’re in the running…You flubbed the baton…Live with your results….
Go back to your mirror…And tell it…You got this…The truth had to be told…I doubt that your new friends…Know what truth means …So sorry, it’s over…. But you chose ‘The End’.
Getting old sucks…just ask Momma…. or not…seems to me she has taken the Fifth…won’t admit to anyone but I see her…she kind of walk stumbles, stops, starts, like me…her knees are so yesterday, her muscles shot.
After all I am the Brainiac Andy Cat…I see all and know all…and try to make sense of it but it is getting harder to evaluate and categorize, as the world performs a blurry out-of-control corkscrew spin…And Momma says you just have to turn on your TV to understand why…all you hear about is Americans Behaving Badly…oh, and Canadians too…every chance you give them.
So what’s a cat to do? Look menacing, even as you move slowly, pause at every chance to be petted by Momma and Wonder Boy…because that is written in the contract….something about ‘food and love on demand’…well, if it isn’t in the contract, it should be…and adjust my routine.
No more terrorizing the neighbour hood…If those Forest Freaks want to rumble, they will have to seek me out on my own property and then I’ll have them charged with Trespassing…If they still are a nuisance I’ll call The Pet Control Mobile and off they will go to swank accommodations that Momma helps fund. Maybe they won’t be so cranky when they get their Three Square Meals a day….
Yes, you’ll find me on my property…the furthest I go is to find shade in the peony bushes, then it’s back to sun tanning on the bench by the side door…or when it is too hot, I seek shade under the bench… so when Momma comes out, I can sneak in and eat my three mouthful of kibbles (four, if I’m really hungry).
Still, most of the time you’ll find me inside, rolled up in a chair, head trying to touch toes, as I dream of chasing butterflies through golden grain fields…it’s a good life….so Charlie Cat, don’t let me find you, freaking me awake, standing with your paws on the side of the couch, your double-ringed green eyes casting your woe-be-gone stare in mine as if to say, ‘who gave you permission to be here?’ Of course I go into attack mode, and Charlie is so bewildered and traumatized…and you guessed it, Momma lays the blame on me…because Charlie is high strung…but I am unpredictable. No worries. Momma has a very forgiving heart…all water under the bridge in no time. Could I just go back to sleep, please?
So it is no better and not worse, then when I was young… There is a certain peace and joy knowing that I won’t have my paw bit or my eyes tattered by well, let’s say…they live among us….but Momma, please, don’t let those types of guests in our front door…so it’s all good, as long as I walk slow, breath, pause, get petted…
And it’s one more step down the road I go…. One more step along the world I go….From the old things to the new….keep me traveling along with you. (Paraphrase Sydney Carter)
