More

He walks like a prince, stately and sure

He goes to the bedroom through the bathroom door

His head is round and square

His eyes cool, steady and more

He flicks his ears

He undulates his tail

He reaches out a paw and extends a nail

Is he smart?

He’s not sure

One thing is certain---he wants more

More what you ask?

More of a task

Not just switching his tail, sharpening his claws and cleaning his whiskers

Not just basking in the sun on a warm Spring day, eating his chow and sounding off a “meow”

Not just playing with yarn, skidding across the floor---he wants more

Maybe he could be like Smokey the Bear or the black and white spotted Dalmatian

Maybe he could be like a seal with a ball, bouncing it around for one and all

Maybe like Willy or Lassie or the Purina Chow cat---or maybe he could just lay back

Be who he is and be satisfied with that

He’s petted, he’s fed, his litter box is cleaned

But what does any of it really mean?

If he jumped on the stove to eat some fish

Would there still be food in his dish?

Would his human companions continue to croon?

Would they brush him and rub him and make him the moon?

Would they carry him across their shoulders, keeping them bare to make sure he always had a comfortable place there?

Or would they swat him, kick him or hit him with a shoe

All because he never learned to say “Moo”?

Would they play dodge with him being the ball?

If the dog scratched the baby, would he take the fall because he has the longest, sharpest of claws?

Here comes John

Walking through the door

Keys in hand, bags on the floor

Does he want more?

John greets him

Kneeling on the floor

Kisses his face, strokes his fur

He wants more