Cat in the Window

Bella’s sitting in the window
sun sparking from her fur
like fiery diamonds,
motor running at fast idle,
eyes peering past where I  can see,
She might be contemplating her name,
Certainly she’s living up to it,
Whatever her thoughts,
they do not make her anxious
but lend a studious look
or is that boredom?

(I was outside talking to her through the window and she pressed her nose against the pane, giving her a pig snout look. I couldn’t resist snapping her picture)

 

Bella

I am a long hair of distinction,
my life is pretty good, A slave
to tend my every affliction, most
of which are by predilection.

Toy mice to kill at will,
feathers dangling from a string,
Really, humans can be so silly
but I will humor the poor things.

In return I’m given treats
and cuddled way too much,
sometimes
one must call a halt to it all
with a perfectly timed hairball.