Ode to A Sphynx

I ask my cat just what he thinks,
And what it’s like to be a Sphynx.
He looks at me with tilted head.
He doesn’t talk, but chirps instead.
He loves to lay within my lap,
And there he likes to take a nap.
He stretches out his little paws,
Extending out his sharpened claws.
He starts to purr under my hand.
Attention is at his command.
And if I stop, he tends to bite,
As if I had been impolite.
And if he hungers, down he’ll get,
And looks at me, as though a threat.
He knows that soon, I will give in.
His smug look says that he will win.
“Why are you like this?” I will say.
“What makes you want to act this way?”
I think he knows just what I said.
And then he crawls into his bed.
His hairless tail, he curls about.
His little tongue is sticking out.
He chirps again, and with a purr,
This hairless cat who has no fur
Will never dare let me forget
That in this life, I am HIS pet.