A Tail of Two Kitties

We never used to have shag carpets,
but we have two hair-producing cats.
Going barefoot in our house
results in hairy, Hobbit feet.

We never used to have Boeing
wind-tunnel vacuum cleaners, either.
They don't really pick up the cat fur:
they pick up the throw rugs and place mats.

The cats, Orphan and Annie,
hate the hurricane-season, fur-sucking,
Storm-Tempest vacuum cleaners,
fearing that too-near a pass will strip them
of last winter's left-over insulation
and leave them Hairless Chihuahua naked.

So far, no luck! One shorter tail.

The people who do energy scans of houses
stopped by and asked how we manage
to project the image of a 100% energy efficient home,
as measured by their drive-by, spy scanners.

I unbraided the door, and let them look.
The sniveley, sniffy one is lying on the lawn, yet,
his eyes running, scratching himself.

For weeks, we worried about Orphan,
who had tumors hanging from her hide,
afraid to take her to the Veterinarian because
she would have eviscerated us and him.
Then I discovered that she must have chewed gum,
and rolled in it: I snipped the tumors off.

I can live with the shag carpet and the Boeing vacuum.
I am drawing the line at orange and avocado appliances.

I saw a dancing dog on TV,
on his hind legs, doing the merengue.
I have been thinking about
The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire.

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