A Twenty Minutes poem. As a note, this one refers to our cat Raquel, who I’ve written about several times. In this little picture, it was October 2014 and she really was plump. She died in August 2015, aged 14, and by then had become very thin. I like to think of her this way.
– Ma’am, your cat is too fat
and you must get her to exercise
she is subject to all kinds of health issues
and you are her biggest problem
feeding her too much and too often
and look at her coat!
you must comb her
since she is too fat to clean it herself –
This to me from the vet’s assistant.
I am ashamed and bow my head
But the cat and I both know
Things will stay exactly the same
when we get home
because it’s what the cat wants.
She looks at me with her yellow eyes
and dares me
to think anything else.