Unaware of age or possible infirmity
Kahlua called on me, the softest purr,
not to the volume of insistency.
"Wake up," she persisted, "You're not entitled
to sleep longer then six A.M.,
rise as you always do, leave the bed,
open the refrigerator door, warm breakfast, I command."
Wild creature,trained centuries away,
well aware of the vagaries of man,
house mate, sister, mother, brother...
take my hand.
Not searching for slippers,
Donned a summer bathrobe, went downstairs,
did her appointed chore.
No thank you master,
no bowing, no patting, no affection,
she knew inside instinctively...
I would understand.
Author: Roy Schoenberg - Bay Shore, New York.