Who Runs This Home

Who Runs This Home by Amy Swanson You stare at me warm topaz eyes so serene mysterious... warm amber glow soft ball of fur you nestle down beside me content to be with me asking only to be scratched... and to play with the pen I am using! Stretching out lazily and purring softly you allow me the privilege of petting soft amber fur - while reaching yet again for my pen! - (you don't give up easily!) And now you've had enough; hopping up to catch a pesky flea then a bath you take such care to groom your sunshine colored fur Just as suddenly you walk away casting a disdainful glance in my direction tail fluffed and flouncing to visit your food dish We know who runs this home! *wink*