How Cats Work


There was a cat on the landing. A black cat at that.
In the dark. So I couldn’t see where it was sat.
Half asleep in my dressing gown, scratching my gut,
The unseen assassin went for my right foot.
With a yowl of confusion I stumbled and fell
In a fifteen point turn down the inky stairwell
Ending up at the bottom all twisted and maimed,
Whilst the cat came and looked at me full of disdain.
And believe it or not, I heard myself say.
“It all right. It was my fault. I got in your way.”

21 responses to “How Cats Work

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