The first thing you notice upon entering,
Is the squawk over number one.
This fight I have been mentoring,
For it continues to be fun.
Then comes the disheartening blow,
That you are stuck with number two.
So very sad, I know.
But what is a one eye to do?
Excuse me, I need a correction,
As that was out of place.
To second, one eye has no connection.
She is further down in disgrace.
You finally notice the post,
From nonsense to rants to scary pics.
Nothing is neglected at my coast,
Not even spotted dicks.
After spitting your coffee or worse,
You scroll down to leave your two cents.
Feeling as if you should curse,
As that kitty porn was intense.
You take a minute to see what you can see.
Irish Air is already there giving off her whine,
Saying how she wants to fillet me.
When really she wants a visit from the feline.
Finally the comment has been sent,
And you give a little sigh.
But damn, after all that time spent,
You begin letting the rhymes fly.
A curse to the cat comes a calling,
For all think you are a nut.
Some might find that rather appalling,
But not Petsy at her hut.
She just comes back with more,
Giving another chime.
Completely addicted to my shore,
And I even make her rhyme.
Then you see her twin,
Who is the scarier sibling.
Who hops to every bin,
Inbetween his gawker scribbling.
Also vying for number one,
But Mary, Waffles or Hank fix that.
At least sometimes under my sun,
Such fun to watch for the cat.
A reply from the cat even shows,
To each and every one.
And so the nonsense grows,
Making another tale be spun.
Over and over this takes place,
Each day at bush number five.
And at a seemingly steady pace,
Many are thankful they got out alive.
But before the finale can amass,
One thing has to come to pass.
The cat needs to get a bit crass,
And leave all with my little rhyming ass.
Later all, have a nice fall.