I watched my little kitty,
As she sat upon her window perch.
I wondered what she saw out there,
I finally saw her fascination,
But I really had to search.
She spied a Mr. Cardinal on the ground,
Just full of life you see,
And she was thinking, oh what fun,
Catching that bird would be.
Her name is ďPreciousĒ, and precious she is,
But rather temperamental you see.
She got that from her mommie,
Inherited I guess from me.
She has her little quirks,
Who she likes and who she don't.
If you have dark hair like mommie,
She will like you,
If you're blond, she won't.
And children please don't touch me,
I'm sorry, I'm just that way.
If I want to have some fun,
With Mom and Dad I'll play.
Iím just a spoiled and rotten female,
But itís really not my fault,
I'd rather be out catching birds,
Itís not the life I sought.
Oh well, at least I have a shelter,
And three meals every day,
And itís cooler in than out,
So what have I to say.
If I don't like this kind of life,
I still have six to go,
But I plan to hang around a while,
For ten or fifteen years or so.
Faye Reyenga © 9 / 9 / 2006