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On Being Recognized

This morning Kahlua, our tortoiseshell cat wasn't at bedside,
housebound pet usually pestering us by six A.M. she would materialize...

Slippers and robe I wandered downstairs confident of her presence,
under the dining room table, paws tucked underneath, contentedly silent,
she recognized me, just her eyes, my day begun now partially complete.

After doling out her food, two cans opened choice morsels mixed,
fresh water, dry pellets too, breakfast noted, it's a habit you know;
every day accomplishment, regardless of the weather, June or July,
a daily chore I couldn't deny, she's our companion, a mixed breed.

The most common pet, a slinky house member passing by...
she lifted her tail, a quick look eye to eye, of all of life's pleasures,
that's one familiarity I'll never be able to extinguish until I die.

11th June 2006 - Author: Roy Schoenberg - Bay Shore, New York.

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