Jess

If you've ever owned a cat then you'll know what they're like.
I've owned a couple in my life, some soppy, some that fight.
But this one, living in my house, is nothing like the rest.
I think she's an imposter sent to put me to the test.
Her mission, it appears, is to ensure I meet my end,
by weaving round my ankles as my stairs I do descend.
Teetering in terror at the top, arms flailing wide,
she looks up oh so innocent, then grins at me all snide.
That phrase 'You're just a scaredy cat', has never been so true,
'cos my cat can't do anything that cats are s'posed to do.
It lives in fear of everything, it cannot go outside,
the big wide garden's scary, so instead it goes to hide.
Other cats dig up the neighbours flowerbeds to poo.
Not mine, oh no! It has a box so we cannot peep through.
It ventures downstairs twice a year, to headbut me with love.
Clawing as it dribbles, then it. #!!#s off back above.
And do not get me started on the time we found a mouse!
Where was my cat? You tell me, we searched the bloody house!!!
Fussy??? OMG so bad, I've bought all to be had.
Shrimp or chicken, duck or heart, they didn't tempt her fad.
But my Marmite on toast, it seems, fulfils it's hearts desire ,
and desperate in it's quest, my cat is suddenly on fire!
Don't misunderstand me, I care for it, I swear.
I guess it's kinda pretty with it's pointy boss-eyed stare....
I'd never treat it badly or turn it from my door,
because that's how it came to me, it happened once before.
All it's life I promise I will give it this and that.
But sometimes I just wish that it could be a proper cat......