The Cat's Meow

© Dr. Joseph D. Di Lella

After an especially grueling workday,

my out-dated, frumpy housekeeper Shirley,

Model 101 RKO,

hurriedly ushered me in

from the cold, blustery evening winds

into the library

with the roaring fireplace.

In-between my plaintive cries of

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty”,

from the window overlooking the canyon,

for a very likely, rain-soaked Fluffy,

who was typically the king of the roost,

and the most assuredly the bane

of Model 101's existence,

Shirley propped me up in the comfortable red velvet chair,

removed my soaked penny loafers, and lit my pipe

before retreating into her favorite sanctuary

– the kitchen.

“What is that delicious smell?” I called out

between long inhales of Black Cherry Blend.

“Something you've never had before, Sir,”

she replied in an oddly emotional voice.

Being an overly curious creature,

I snuck into the kitchen

to find the cook

scrapping what looked like gray, matted fur

from an old, wooden cutting board

into the Futurama 15 food disposal.

Before I slid the first portion of cubed meat

into my mouth at the start of dinner,

I cautiously asked for the name of the concoction.

“I call it, the Cat's Meow,”

the chef replied ever so sprightly

while leaning over my shoulder

to ensure I ate every

bite.

The next morning, I traded in our longtime maid

for a more pet-friendly housekeeper.