Stripes
Stripes as a kitten was all over the face –prancing, dancing, in my face.
We loved to watch him jump, hop, and dance all over the place.
He loved to spot a sneaky fast mouse, and give it a hero’s chase.
Stripes’ energy was well-known; running flat out was his pace.
He gets more excited every time I come, my mother-in-law said.
She tried to corral him, give him catnip treats, get him on the bed.
Stripes would have none of that, he was holding a rabbit, dead.
Of course the rabbit had already lost his chewed off head.
Does he ever slow down? The neighbors asked as he went twirling by.
Stripes was always in motion, a curly que whirly twirly tomcat of a guy.
The neighborhood felines meowed at him and fluttered their feline eyes.
He had litters from the west edge of the Valley way past Van Nuys.
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