My Cat Whiskey

You humans make me laugh, or should we say cry,
your attitude is so rural, not really a townie like I,
running around with climate change in the valleys,
the reasoning, dreadful logistics, never really tallies.

I ponder while I'm eating my Kitekat, where it's at,
or rather, reflecting on the imprint where I once sat;
I hear laughter from my master, Telboy, it must be,
another conquest from the publisher, yet more mystery.

I have twenty years - maybe you less than eighty,
just imagine, same food every day, here comes Katie,
she's nice and fat, my fighting weight from next door,
has good insight, not like some we'd consider a bore.

We read The Times together, see boss won by a whisker,
then she waddles back home, bum in the air, that's her.