He waits by the door
Each time I’m away
And then wants to hear
About my day
He comes when I whistle
He’s never aloof
No mystery here
His arrogance poof
A glorified “dog”
He comes when I call
A bottle-fed cat
Imagine that
Iggy is playful
Not timid or shy
His whiskers, they nudge me
We laugh till we cry
He rubs up against me
And kisses my face
Remaining right near me
Each room in our place
He waits by the door
Each time I’m away
And then seems to know
The things that I say
He will not take no
When he’s needing my lap
To snuggle his way
Through an afternoon nap
The best of all worlds
This bundle of fur
My bottle-fed cat
Imagine that
He waits by the door
Each time I’m away
And then wants to hear
About my day
(3-20-13)
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem