I looked out the door at Simmons, my cat,
and shouted out loud, "What is that!
Simmons, how could you! Eek! It's a rat!"
There is was, out the door, on the mat,
head lolled over, just a big dead rat.
Next to it, my twitching tailed cat,
licked its gray paw. On haunches he sat.
Then he looked at me, then at the rat,
waiting for a reward, a stroke, or a pat,
A sweet, gentle, "Good, Kitty. Good, Cat."
I wondered, how Simmons, who was really so fat,
could have ever even caught that big old rat.
I ran inside, shoved aside my gardener's hat,
and took my pair of gloves out to remove the rat.
But when I returned, I saw the hurt on my tomcat,
my gosh, I'd never seen Simmons so sad,
and he was just about to run - to scat,
when I realized I'd hurt Simmons the cat,
by rejecting that bloody thing - that rat.
So I bent low, said, "Here, Kitty, Here, Cat."
And he bebopped over to me like a hepcat,
purred, meaowed, and lept over the mat,
and upended. Feet in air, he wallowed on the rat,
begging me to pet him - Simmons the cat.
I did. I stroked his fur, behind the ears - like that,
and ignored the blood and the rat gut splat,
and instead said, "Yes you are, you're a good kitty cat."
Well, Simmons smelled like a bitter muskrat,
or maybe a bit like a skunky polecat.
Still he deserved a stroke after that combat,
with a rodent so big, wow! That dirty rat.
Simmons acted like a teenaged brat,
but never had I had a loving like that -
not by a woman, a beast, a dog or a cat,
than I did that day by Simmons the cat.
Well, finally he was tired (because he was lazy and fat)
and scuffled off, though I'm not sure where at.
I scooped up the dead body - that bloody rat.
So, when I dug it out, and plopped it in a hole,
into a dark place, a grave as black as a bat,
well, me and the rat, we had us a brief chat.
Well, dear rodentia, goodbye, you filthy old rat.
Just then I burst out, laughing at that,
and how silly I was - even more than the cat,
and smiled at life's weird pleasures - at
love, life, and Simmons - my faithful old cat.