Cat Ownership

You have to love them to sift their latrine, The uric fragrance burning your nose and eyes As you render their special place fresh and clean-- One of them watches, impatient, and sighs. You have to be ready for sleep-rending howls When one recovers his ragged cloth ball-- At twelve or two--shaking it with feral growls, Boasting his prey up and down the hall. You must be attentive--even at four-- If bowls are empty and bellies not full: Rude rattling and scratching on the bedroom door Has such a hypnotic, nerve-racking pull. How apt the pharaohs decreed them divine, While litter-box slaves were treated like swine.