DOES CURIOSITY ALWAYS KILL THE CAT?

1 Curiosity

DOES CURIOSITY ALWAYS KILL THE CAT?

My heart pumps fear through my veins,

bringing me anguish and pains.

Why must I be the curious one?

The one who can’t let the deed be done.

I must follow the noises to the basement,

where something is making an awful statement.

A voice called to me from my rumpled bed.

The sound echoed endlessly in my head.

I descend the stairs to the darkness below.

The noises combine to form a loud bellow.

A hiss hits my ear as claws rake my arm.

​My silly cat thinks I mean him some harm.

I offer soothing words but he wants to flee

just as the door shuts and locks behind me.

The light bulb goes out leaving me in the dark.

Do I now hear a dog’s whimper and shrill bark?

Chills taunt me as I go down the dark stairs,

following the whimpering and stray hairs.

Feathers float in front of me.

I don’t know what this can be.

I step on something squishy and soft.

I find a light and hold it aloft.

I lift my foot and the tail retreats

to the chair where it has hidden treats.

With the bright lantern held high,

I search for the source of a sigh.

My neighbor sits with her panting pals

of the furry sort in guys and gals.

“Am I also welcome to the party?”

I ask the pig-tailed girl, laughing hearty.

She replies, “Of course, you are, my dear neighbor,”

A point she refuses to belabor.

I join the circle on the floor,

as the cats and dogs eat some more.

Cake and cookies for all the guests,

even ones who have been great pests.

My black cat joins in with tail held high,

sniffing at the desserts and brown pie.

At least this story has a happy ending.

No one wants another tale to be pending.

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A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE

babyanimalposts: A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE A boring afternoon at the pet store. “What to do? What to do?” the white cat pondered to herself. The only movement was an annoying fly. It flew around the store. The four kittens followed the fly...

babyanimalposts:

     
A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE

A boring afternoon at the pet store.
    “What to do? What to do?”
    the white cat pondered to herself.
    The only movement was an annoying fly.
    It flew around the store.
    The four kittens followed the fly with their eyes.
    In fact, they couldn’t keep their eyes off it.


The fly was black and furry.

    It had unusual yellow stripes down its back.
    The smallest cat wanted it for a new baby brother.
    The Tom cat wanted to swat the thing with his tail.
    The fly finally landed.
    On the Tom cat’s nose.
    “Ouch,” Tom cat screamed out.
    “It bit me!” he said while rubbing his nose.


Fluffy, the big white cat, ran over to Tom.

    She said,”It didn’t bite you but stung you.”
    “Oh no! Oh no! What should I do?”
    Tom ran around in circles.
    The white cat moved closer to look at his nose.
    “It’s fine. If it swells, we’ll put ice on it. It looks better
    than the poor fly.”


The four cats looked down at the fly lying on the ground.

    “It gave its life so it could sting you,” Fluffy said.
    “But why would it do that?” Tom looked confused.
     “It’s the way of life,” Fluffy said in a sad voice.
     “I know! We should bury it with a service and all.”
     The little voice came from the youngest kitten.
     They all agreed with him.


Not having a yard for a burial, they wrapped the fly

     in a tissue and were going to flush it down the toilet.
     But first, the youngest, Squeaky, said a few words.
     Squeaky was sad that the fly didn’t even have a name.
     “Let’s call her Miss Bee,” Fluffy suggested to the group.
     “Why? It was a fly.” Squeaky was upset.
     “No, my dear, she was a bee. And that is why she stung Tom.”
     Squeaky began to cry. 


After wiping his nose and eyes, Squeaky agreed to call

     her Miss Bee.
     “Goodbye, Miss Bee. We’re sorry we didn’t get to know you
     better. I hope you make friends in your new life.”
     With that said, Squeaky flushed the toilet and watched
     Miss Bee float away to her new life.
     “Goodbye Miss Bee,” Squeaky said. “We’ll miss you.”

STRANGE

Why is there a big cat in my bedroom?

Am I awake or still sleeping?

It’s watching me.

Waiting for something.

Go away!

Oh no!

Now my clock has come to life.

Its eyes are ticking back and forth.

Is it my cat or my clock?

Stranger and stranger.

Cats.

There are cats everywhere.

Staring at me.

Help!

Do you feel a little strange?

Your eyes are blurry.

Kindly step away from the computer.

A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE

babyanimalposts:
 
     A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE

     A boring afternoon at the pet store.
     “What to do? What to do?”
     The white cat pondered to herself.
     The only movement in the store
     was an annoying fly.
     It flew round and round the store.
     As if looking for the perfect spot to land.
     The four kittens followed the fly with their eyes.
     In fact, they couldn’t keep their eyes off of him.
     The fly was black and furry.
     He also had some unusual yellow stripes down his back.
     The smallest cat wanted him for a new baby brother.
     The Tom cat wanted to swat the thing with his tail.
     The fly finally landed.
     On the Tom cat’s nose.
     “Ouch,” Tom cat screamed out.
     “He bit me!” He said while rubbing his nose.
     Fluffy, the big white cat, ran over to big Tom.
     She said,”He didn’t bite you but stung you.”
     “Oh no! Oh no! What should I do?”
     Tom began to run around in circles.
     The white cat moved closer to look at his nose.
     “It’s fine. If it swells, we’ll put ice on it. It looks better
     than the poor fly.”
     The four cats looked down at the fly lying on the ground.
     “He gave his life so he could sting you,” Fluffy said. 
     “But why would he do that?” Tom looked confused.
      “It’s the way of life,” Fluffy said in a sad voice.
      “I know! We should bury him with a service and all.”
      The little voice came from the youngest kitten.
      They all agreed with him.
      Not having a yard for a burial, they wrapped the fly
      in a tissue and were going to flush him down the toilet.
      But first, the youngest, Squeaky, said a few words.
      Squeaky was sad that the fly didn’t even have a name.
      “Let’s call him Mr. Bee,” Fluffy suggested to the group.
      “Why? He was a fly.” Squeaky was upset.
      “No, my dear, he was a bee. And that is why he stung Tom.”
      Squeaky began to cry.
      After wiping his nose and eyes, Squeaky agreed to call
      him Mr. Bee.
      “Goodbye, Mr. Bee. We’re sorry we didn’t get to know you
      better. I hope you make friends in your new life.”
      With that said, Squeaky flushed the toilet and watched
      Mr. Bee float away to his new life.
      “Goodbye Mr. Bee,” Squeaky said. “We’ll miss you.”

NOWHERE TO HIDE