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Tail Trauma

I’m a Cat (fancy that) and my tail went all droopy.
When I came in with it all bent, it sent my oomans loopy.
She started making phone calls, he put on shoes and socks,
They shut me in, they pinned me down and stuffed me in a box.

I’d only come home for an hour, a midnight break in hunting,
I never thought I’d suffer such humiliating shunting.
If I had known my tail would create such an awful worry
I might have stayed out later; not come home in too much hurry.

I’d only had a little fight, a minor feline quarrel.
No acts of real violence, not awful or immoral.
But I had copped a tail-bite, which made the end go numb.
Didn’t think that much of it, I still could feel my bum.

And so they dragged me to the vet, that place of such dishonour.
I could truly bite my folks for that. You know, I really wanna.
Squeezed and shaved, stabbed and prodded. The worst was mainly where
He shoved that cold thermometer – that’s nobody’s affair!

So here I am all poked about, my tail looks like a dumb-bell
My oomans just don’t realise that in feline terms, that’s some hell!
I guess they did their best for me, but for what I’ve undergone,
Until I’m ready to forgive – petting rights withdrawn!

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