I called my cat at least twelve times,In voices, whistles, songs, and rhymes.I shook her treats. I made a sound.She did not even turn around.
She stared ahead with royal grace,As if I did not share her space.A statue could have shown more care.A pillow might have seemed aware.
At last she blinked — I felt such hope!My patience hanging by a rope…She stood, stretched once, then walked away.Clearly busy. Not today.