Walking My Tiger Home
My protests were ignored!
He lept and then ran,
shooting out the door
at about a quarter to four.
Now, he is running free.
I know he feels good.
Frisky and full of glee
is how he likes to be.
I looked outside
when the clock said five.
There lay three critters
and none were alive.
These were gifts to me,
given that I may feed.
He was quite proud
to serve my need.
I called out his name,
played the waiting game,
standing in airy silence
because he never came.
With hands on hips,
I checked again at six.
There lay a mouse
doing tortured flips.
I had enough of this!
His behavior must be nixed.
His hunting must be stopped
before another life is popped.
I walked the streets
shaking his treats,
calling his name
and smiled when he came.
The hunting, fierce beast
now lay small at my feet
in the middle of the street,
Purring for his treats.
My anger was released
as I rubbed a soft crease.
He rolled over with ease
to show he was pleased.
Now, a little before seven,
I began some quick stepping,
heading for our home haven
to shelter my killing felon.
Snuggling him in my arms
so no other life was harmed,
I cooed in babyish tones
while walking my tiger home.
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