Quatrain Pets Poems | Quatrain Poems About Pets

These Quatrain Pets poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Pets. These are the best examples of Quatrain Pets poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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What's In The Urn

           What’s In The Urn

Strangers offered me to join them in a drink
I met them on a mountain edge while skiing
They seemed like friendly normal people then
So what could happen in a simple cabin?

Finding that which is not there or vanquished
What is there that cannot be perceived?
Placed upon the mantel piece are ashes in the cabin
Brass vase, a receptacle for lost souls sits in repose

A death vase to glare at over cognac
By the sober flames cast by
A fire place glow observed in action
Liquid spirits pour out their poison

In the cozy living room inside the cabin
Drinks alone cannot remove this feeling of distraction
The urn is piercing through my soul
People belong in cemeteries you know

With all due respect for the dead
Scatter them at sea when they‘re deceased
Not paraded around in gloom to cause unease
Or as a center piece for living rooms 

I’m not relieved to find it is a lizard on the shelf
To be exact, an exotic iguana family friend entombed 
And to assume that fact makes this matter optimal 
I beg to differ on that point and voice my opinion later

There must be a plot of ground outside 
Or toilet somewhere to flush it down
But better left unsaid, as they are bereaved about the death
And I am their invited guest

Iguana tried consuming the family’s cat
Another favorite  pet I guess
It is surmised, that’s how it met its end
Wound up expired inside the urn
The receptacle was there and going nowhere on its own
I swear it follows me from room to room
By embers glow and ash, shadowing my every move
A brass smile casting off the urn, leaving me concerned 

I could not take my leave
The container followed me
So I waited, fixated on the thing
Is it coming back to life to eat more bugs or me?

Finding that which is not there
Is easier in the dark                                                                                     
Rising to the occasion of the day that breaks
I must escape the premises to continue skiing 

Into the frozen world outside I fly
With no discernible signs or paths to lead or learn
I get away, no time to say good-byes or find my way
Never again will I say; what’s in the urn

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

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Wet but Wiser


A dog! A panic in a pagoda!
Teenager Rex brought a can of soda;
he shook it up hard and then pulled the tab.
But Rex was too slow for their choc'late lab.

Cain: a maniac, the brown dog's head swelled,
confused by the fizz but a rat he had smelled.
He was a god's dog, ergo, a ogre -
mighty fine watchdog, well-trained at Kroger.

Schooled in their stockroom with all kinds of nuts
whose tricks won ribbons for all kinds of mutts.
Cain's radar kicked in, went straight for the can
and turned it on Rex who lost his game plan.

On the way out, Cain offered some Kleenex.
No one's the wiser, except maybe Rex.
Recording the facts, Cain writes in his log,
Was it a rat I saw? or Am I a dog?

6 palindromes:
A dog, a panic in a pagoda
Cain, a maniac
god's dog
ergo, a orgre
Was it a rat I saw

Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2012

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An Evening in with the Cat

If I had a bottle of pills
I’d dump them out inside my mouth
Take the last few swigs of vodka
And swallow all of them down

If I had a big sharp knife
I’d drag the cold steel across my skin
If I thought for a moment it might
Bring this feeling to an end

I’d stare down the barrel
If I had a gun
Find the trigger with my finger
Pull it and be done

If I had a car
I’d park inside the garage
Leave the motor running
Till the poison filled my lungs

If I had a rope
I’d make myself a noose
Dangle there in my own doorway
Till somebody cut me loose

If I had someone to love
I'd probably treat them bad
Since that's all that I've known
In relationships of the past

 If I had a heart in my chest
I'd be able to forgive and forget
But there is nothing left
Of that beating mass of flesh

So I'll just continue
Sitting all alone and in the dark
A typical evening in with the cat
Doesn't seem that bad after all.

Copyright © Lisa Hicks | Year Posted 2011

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Pixie Loves Bottles

It's my fault Pixie loves bottles
On a whim I once gave her one
Now I want it brought to a Halt
But she will not be undone

Sad eyes are giving me glances
I hurry to empty my drink
She prances off, with the bottle
Accenting her nails painted pink

She loves toys, sticks and leaves
Balloons and balls and much more
But, she'll leave them all behind
When a bottle's thrown on the floor!

Copyright © PAT Adams | Year Posted 2017

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Our Cow

We bought a cow at the state fair 
and loaded her on the truck
to take her home, but halfway there
we had a stroke of good luck.

We hit a rock, and from the crash
she bounced away down the hill,
she mooed and made an awful splash
in the stream beside the mill.

The water was still awful cold,
the cow already freezing…
resisting as we roped and pulled
her breathing turned to sneezing.

My father said this won’t end well,
he couldn’t have been more wrong.
He thought the cow, we ought to sell
but changed his mind before long.

We took her home, our shook up cow, 
unloaded her in the barn.
We thought we’d let her sleep for now
then see to her in the morn’.

The next day, just around sunrise,
the cow already awake.
I milked, and to my great surprise,
I got a frozen milkshake! 


Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

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My Cat

~~ O, a sweet one my wee cat, White and brown and strong; She likes sleeping on my bed, Snoring all night long. Eating, she sure does enjoy, Now is time to play; We are chasing furry balls, Then she walks away. ________________________________ March 29, 2015 Quatrain with 5/7 Trochee For the contest, Have You Tried 5/7 Trochess Sponsor, Andrea Dietrich Fourth Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

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Welcome To My Home

Welcome To My Home

I've been blinded by your sentiment, and awoken by your sweet cologne, like our sweet morning regiment, we don't live in a house, but a home. I see my pugs silly smushy face, as soon as I open my exhausted eyes, all night he sleeps in the same place, on my feet, but I'm not surprised. I'm in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I open the door and there he is, my sweet golden retriever beast, So darn sweet, how can I resist? “Time to get up Ella and get dressed!”, It's Monday, you know how that goes, As I see her smile I know I am blessed, Love her from her head to her tiny toes. Pancakes and orange juice for breakfast, packing a lunch for my sweet Ella Rose, These special moments can't be purchased, Oh, how her beautiful brown hair flows. Back from school and it's Laura time, I kick back, relax, and do a little writing, I'm lucky to have a chance to unwind, My over sized lounge chair, typewriting. Laundry piled up I suppose I throw in a load, mmmmmmm..my favorite fabric softener, Hot water is off my washer is cold, But I think it makes the clothes softer. Eat lunch? Or my favorite apple strudel? I'll go with the unhealthy snack instead, Plus I just looked and I'm all out of noodles, and I have no more of my raspberry vinaigrette. Uh oh, I forgot to feed the turtle and bunny, my precious white fluffy piece of heaven, His name is Lucky and he is very funny, Pebbles the turtle just turned seven. I set my phone alarm to go off at four o'clock, I still can't decide what's my favorite ring tone, I go to the bus stop right around the block, It's cold, I would've brought a coat if I had known. “Hi sweetheart, how was your day at work? He's finally home, I've missed him so much. Next it's time to sit down and do homework, Dinner's ready, we are all starving, I figured as such. Look inside our windows you will see it yourself, With our little family of seven we're never alone, We may not have a lot of monetary wealth, But we've learned to turn a house into a home. Written By: Laura Loo Date Written: January 29, 2016

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016

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He's of Zero Worth

(I'd Pay a Million)

He's an ordinary gray, long and lean,
relieved by ashen whiskers and chin.
A perfect white 'V' marks his breast
and one snowy paw mocks the rest.

What is he worth to this old friend
when dozens can be had of his kind?
Some are more worthy of love and trust
and others are spared his hoary crust.

But daily I treasure his sweet purr
and gently stroke his ordinary fur.
I rest my eyes on his rangy form
and rue the day when he'll be gone.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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Murphy Made History

At Wrigley’s Field in Chicago
He bought two tickets, but struck out.
Barred from the game, with his pet,
“He stinks!”rang J. K.Wrigley’s shout.

At Sianis’ tavern across the way,
his pet, Murphy, was quite a hit.
But at the ball park, life turned sour;
they didn’t favor his goat one whit.

He aimed his pet to bring them luck
to watch World Series pennant wave.
Ejection brought anger, and a curse,
that loss would trail them to the grave.

The Cubs have yet to take the prize;
for seventy years, their losses count,
while Murphy’s name has garnered fame
and Wrigley’s shame they can’t surmount.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2016

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A Dog's LIfe: A Place of My Own

I dIdn’t know why I had been thrown out,
I  didn’t  know what the fuss was about,
Or what I was  in trouble for
but they didn’t want me there anymore.

I was weak, frightened and somewhat tattered,
my trust and confidence  totally shattered,
there were many like me,yet I felt alone,
this large noisy shelter just wasn’t a home.

My step wasn’t as lively as it used to be
and out of my left eye I barely could see,
I wasn’t as pretty as I was before,
a sad soul behind a cold steel door.

People would look at me, then they’d walk by,
I finally gave up , didn’t bother to try,
shunning attention I hung my head low,
what would become of me I didn’t know.

One day a young voice said, “Look at her dad,
the one in the corner, she looks awfully sad,
the one that’s just lying there not making a fuss,
can we take  her home cause I think she needs us.”

“But you wanted a puppy,” the dad’s swift reply,
the boy  looked upset as he waved me goodbye,
but miracles do happen and love found it’s way,
it was me  they came back for the very next day.

For the next few years I happily spent,
good times with my family the way it was meant,
loved and cared for more than I’d ever known,
the best of a dog’s life, a place of my own.


Copyright © Liz Labadie-Reilly | Year Posted 2012

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Smokey was a funny cat,
Filled with fun and love;
Adventurous as all cats are,
And Master of the Hunt.

He stalked the house in search of that,
Which posed some kind of threat.
A bug, a mouse, a ball of yarn,
No pest escaped the net,

That he had formed around our home.
He took responsibility,
To protect us fro it all,
Because we were his family.

From babyhood he was my kin.
He always slept with me.
We played for hours in the yard,
Beneath the old Oak tree.

We climbed my swing set, climbed the tree,
Played in my sand box too.
Imagine my surprise to find,
He used it for a loo.

Kitty cat and little girl,
Fought jungle wars, climbed trees;
And then we sailed the seven seas,
Buccaneers were we.

We'd hide behind the sofa,
The curtains or in the hall,
And wait in ambush for our prey.
We really had a ball.

My sister's boyfriend happened by,
One night as we were hiding.
I yelled "Chaarge!" and Smokey leaped.
The boy knocked off the siding,

On the bookcase in the hall,
As Smokey climbed his leg,
And we were sent to bed that night,
T'hout supper though I begged.

Incarcerated pirates we,
The game continued on.
We'd wait until they were asleep,
Then eat till it was gone.

Then we'd escape into the night,
With valuables they cherished.
We'd be away by early light,
Leaving the guard embarrassed.

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2016

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Dog Prodigy

A dog trained to play the piano
Is a remarkable sight
But Boston neighbors say its Bach
Is worse than its bite.

Copyright © James Tate | Year Posted 2011

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Simon Dog

quatrains with palindrome and onomatopœia

I thought I saw a puddy tat. Was it a cat I saw?
We got one of those curtain things so Simon Dog can come
and go without our bother, when we are busy at home.
Quick-quick, click-click, stick-stick, the neighbor cat watches in awe.

I thought I saw a pretty hat. Was it a hat I saw?
Simon Dog has chased after things since he was just a pup
And though he's seventy in people years, he still jumps up
announcing, bouncing, pouncing all his trophies with his paws.

I thought I saw a piper's rat. Was it a rat I saw?
Lately, Simon doesn't seem as hungry as he's used to
I guess it could be his old age, or maybe stomach flu?
Quick-quick, click-click, stick-stick, the magnets keep that curtain taut.

I thought I saw a spotted bat. Was it a bat I saw?
Simon's not the only one attracted to this curtain.
Diversion and delight offer exercise it's certain -  
bouncing, pouncing, announcing a treasure he's not yet caught.

written 5 March 2016

Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2016

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The Trolls Come Out At Night

Some cat entered my room one night I thought it was a ghost It smelled like something had just died But I must oblige my guest as the host I turned on the light and there it was An obnoxious opossum at best! Whoa! Forget my host duties, cous! Take the room—I’m an unhappy guest! I left the house with a shutter Before I realized I was heavily surrounded By cats on all sides, up and under The house they had all just rounded! In truth I was perturbed on all levels That I began to realize in horror That damn opossum had spawned these little devils! And tonight I must end this terror! I then ran straight to the kitchen Aware of the opossum inside If I give up the tuna and ditch um’ Perhaps I’ll escape this night alive The persistent cats scratched at the holes Those buggers—those meddlers! They could have been thieves—if not trolls! Their yowls would scare sumo wrestlers! Worst of all in this dilemma Tomorrow was grocery day There were no more cans of tuna All my fish had swam away! Somehow one got in And the rest came barreling through I ran toward my room to him The opossum looked so distressed and blue The little beady eyes pierced my soul And I knew from then on he was my friend He only meant to hide from the furry little trolls And escape a most pitiful end! I made up my mind at last And picked up my trusty broom Come on in—I dare yah tah pass! Ain’t no feline coming through this room! Glowing eyes burned with intent And the yowling grew loud as hell The little bullies think they can take my guest! They’ll fly like birds they will! That night was a battle like none other A battle I will proudly say I won I gained the friend of my life—a brother My pet’s a load of fun! As much as I love a neighbor cat They are a little scary as a race Thankfully a broom will push them back And put them in their place My opossum is a sweet little thing And I protect him with my life I’ll never judge a critter again Till actions bring it to light

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

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It's the night before Christmas,
And I and the cat,
Patrol the house,
In search of that,

Which could cause harm,
To kith or kin,
Though the job is mine,
The cat is my friend,

So he comes along,
To help where he can,
And we have devised,
A workable plan.

He'll give the call,
If he sees something strange,
And I'll come a-runnin',
That's what we've arranged.

The war cry he gives,
Is a terrible screech,
And I have to admit,
It gives me the creeps.

One night 'bout this time,
A few years ago,
We thought we heard something,
Outside in the snow.

The cat crept up,
To the window sill,
And he gave a cry,
That was eerie and shrill.

The folks were all gone.
They were at church,
And up on the roof,
Came a clatter and lurch;

Then some strange old man,
In a funny red suit,
Came down the chimney,
With a sack filled with loot.

Without hesitation,
I was on the attack.
None of our stuff,
Would he put in that sack.

Back up the chimney,
He flew in disgrace,
And reindeer were running,
All over the place.

They took off like a rocket,
Swooped low and then high.
I swear that I never,
Knew reindeer could fly.

Some poor old lady,
Was out in the street,
Never knew what hit her,
It was reindeer feet.

Her husband stood staring,
In total dismay,
And they sing about her,
To this very day;

How on her way home,
From the church which was near,
Grandma got run over,
By eight reindeer.

It's the night before Christmas,
And I and the cat,
Are on the alert,
But he won't be back.

(Grandma got run over by a reindeer,
(walking home from church on Christmas Eve,
(Ohhhh you can say you don't believe in Santa,
(but as for me and Grandpa --- WE BELIEVE!)

(Now you know the whole story)

For Last Fifty Poems Contest by Brian Strand

For DejaVu Christmas  contest by Debbie Guzzi

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011

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Missing Our Friend

Skies are dark and dreary,
This day we won't forget;
Ol' Ollie was our favorite,
Far more than just a pet

A naughty lil' imp,
Knock-kneed and proud;
Meowin' like a siren,
Geez, that cat was loud!

It was on this frigid morning,
We lost our furry friend;
Reality's stunning anguish,
Death fails to comprehend

Spoiled rotten and witty,
You'd swear he was a dog;
A happy treat to pacify,
While sleeping like a log

Looking on the good days,
Diminished are the bad;
We lost a friend forever,
The best we've ever had

Death never comforts,
We failed to see your end;
Our tears concede to obscurity,
Farewell to a loyal friend... 

Copyright © Milton Toran | Year Posted 2014

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She Doesn't Know She's a Dog

Her name is Apogee Sausalito,
she is tiny, feisty and black;
when she romps with Tricia,
she thinks she's a cat.

The crafty feline hides
on the dining room chair;
'round and 'round the table,
the dog circles her there.

Behind the tablecloth,
the cat keeps watch;
reaches out with her paw,
and gives S'Lito a swat.

It's a game they both love;
each day's regular routine,
we enjoy their frisky antics
with morning coffee and cream.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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At Your Service

Be patient, please. I heard you call.
I'm in the kitchen getting lunch.
To please you, Dear, I will not stall.
I know it's been a while since brunch.

I've turned on Garfield for you, Hon.
I know you love it; I do too.
This aftenoon we'll have such fun,
but first I have this feast for you.


You loved each morsel, I can see.
Let's have a nap; then we'll go play.
I'll watch you run and climb a tree.
We'll have a bright and lovely day.

To thank me you meow and purr,
unlike the other friends I've had.
To all your wishes, I defer.
I say, is that a flea. Egad!

October 21, 2017, entered in Julie Leigh Rodeheaver's Picture Prompt Contest


Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2016

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Little Jojo

He's my little monkey,
i take him everywhere,
i wish they'd understand
he doesn't mean to scare.

Copyright © Uqhe Uqhe | Year Posted 2015

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Christmas Joy

Early one Christmas morn
my eyes flew open wide,
found no gifts under the tree
so I ran to look outside.

Everywhere, on the ground
lay mounds of fluffy snow
and parked right in front,
topped with a big red bow,

was my trusty old wagon
full of presents galore.
Four eyes peeked out and
made my emotions soar.

Two furry little playmates
to fill the hours of my days
full of love and amusement
with their wild, playful ways.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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The Naming of Dogs

The naming of dogs is a serious matter,
as dogs are, by nature, a serious lot.
A name sets the tone for a pup’s pranks and patter;
and long into dog-hood. So, give it some thought.

Call a pup BOZO, he’ll just be a clown,
playing dead, pirouetting when you command “DOWN!”
If you dub your dog KING, you’ll be swelling his head;
he’s born to do nothing, he’s royally-bred.

You could call a dog BOOMERANG (comes when you call);
or SNAPPY, or FIDO (most faithful of all).
But to be realistic, here’s my advice.
It takes so much training to make a dog nice.

You give a command of obedience, NOW!
The dog’s suddenly deaf, he says “Say what?” or “How?”
So christen him WHY? – philosophical pup.
When you say “WHY SIT!” he’s bound to get up.

You could call him WHO ME? or perhaps NEVERMORE.
My personal choice, DON'T, no dog can ignore.
Just yell at him “DON’T COME!” He’ll see it’s his game
and run off to prove that he’s true to his name.

(with apologies to T.S. Eliot)

Copyright © Taylor Graham | Year Posted 2005

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All my life I longed for you.
You filled my thoughts and dreams.
You'd stand majestic, head held high,
My mind's eye saw the gleam,

Of vibrant health, unbounded strength,
That shone from a glistening coat,
The look of eagles in your eye,
As you moved you seemed to float,

Like the billowing clouds that float across,
The azure sky above.
When I'm with you I too can fly,
I soar on wings of love.

We glide across the meadow,
Beneath the sun lit sky,
We are the best of fellows,
My dog, my horse and I.

I believe God had many reasons for giving us the animals and if we try we can figure out what those reasons are.
For one thing, I believe the first and foremost reason was to TEACH US.
Have you ever noticed they have remained just as He created them?
They never deviated from the original plan.
We, However, have done our level best to IMPROVE on PERFECTION; and we have poisoned the environment and nearly destroyed the entire planet in the attempt.
What is more loyal than a dog?
Animals have shown more self sacrificing  loyalty and courage in the face of danger than we ever dreamed of. They love completely and will willingly sacrifice themselves for our good. How many of us will do that for them? In fact we laugh at those who will.
We KEEP them as long as it is convenient and then cast them aside without a thought for their love or well being or how much heart break they suffer for our uncaring treatment of them. We don't try to understand them at all; but we expect them to understand us. If we are so much smarter than them, how come we have never learned any of this from them? Could it be that we are so selfish and concerned for our own comfort that nothing else matters much to us?
The love we receive from our animals is completely unconditional.
The love they receive from us HAS IT'S LIMITS.
We should give that some serious thought.

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2012

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Annie And Zoe

Usually prefer pussycats to dogs Though we have a Golden named Annie Guess it might be a real tossup though Annie's pretty special and uncanny This gal can smell barbecued chicken From at least a couple of rooms away Comes bounding into the kitchen Ready for whatever comes her way How can I resist this gorgeous animal Got me tied around her paw Zoe the cat is a real sweetheart too I'm torn between these two pets-in-law Guess I'll just spread my love between both Annie can show fits of jealousy Chasing Zoe and threatening her life But really they get along quite famously © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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                                 SMOKEY AND THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER

Once when I was just a kid,
My mom thought 'twould be nice,
If I'd invite some friends to play,
And we could swing outside.

I had a swing set in the yard,
Where I would play for hours.
My daddy built it just for me,
Away from Mommy's flowers.

It stood beneath a large Oak tree,
And even had a sand box.
We played and swung and had a ball,
Got sand in clothes and socks.

Our neighbors had a big red dog,
A loyal, patient friend,
Prince often came to play with us,
He wagged his tale and grinned.

Another dog came on the scene,
And Prince was not amused,
They postured and they sniffed each other,
A dog fight soon ensued.

We screamed and cried and climbed the set,
As Prince and dog fought on,
Smokey heard our frantic cries,
And raced across the lawn.

Prince was huge with big white teeth,
And muscles big and stocky,
But Smokey feared him not and leaped,
And rode him like a jockey.

Smokey sank his claws in deep,
With teeth he grabbed his neck,
The big dog took off down the street,
With Smokey firmly set,

Upon his back, he rode him well,
They soon were out of sight,
We worried that he might get hurt,
In yet another fight;

But he came strolling home real soon,
The hero of the day.
"Don't worry kids', he seemed to say,
He won't be back today."

                                                               Judy Ball
For Fraqncine Roberts Pick A Pet Contest - July4,2011

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011

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It was a dark and stormy night,
Without respite of beam of light.
Dark clouds obscured the stars and moon.
All light was banished from the room.

The thunder rolled and lightning flashed.
In that moment I stood aghast.
There in the darkness, illuminated,
A shadow in the darkness waited.

Large yellow eyes stared through the rain,
As claws scraped at the window pane.
I stood there frozen to the floor,
And then I rushed toward the door.

I grabbed the door and threw it wide,
As the figure rushed inside.
With a towel upon my lap,
I dried my poor drenched kitty cat.

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2016

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Just discovered the love of dogs For the absolute very first time Had always been a lover of kittens Until Annie invaded my mind Canines and I never connected Before Annie the golden retriever Awesome is how I'd describe this gal Now a “man's best friend” believer How did I get along up to now Never knowing what I was missing Shows me such bubbly enthusiasm When for a treat she is fishing Her love is absolutely over the top Few humans have this ability Unconditional is how I'd describe it Creating a feeling of stability So now sweet Annie, she's da bomb Enhancing my life ten fold Filling a void with her adorable ways A treasure unique to behold © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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Flying Fur

He sits poised with head down
then springs forward to attack
The rug becomes littered with
tiny tufts of white, gray and black
as fur flies.

They roll around in a tangle
kicking each other in the head
She’s older and more experienced
he’s younger and stronger instead
and the fur flies.

Her beauty draws him like a flame
he keeps coming back for more
They go barreling down the hall
and crash into the door
as fur flies.

She’s cunning, clever and quick
he’s fun-loving, handsome and bold
They seem to be evenly matched
Their tussle is fun to behold
as the fur flies.

Hair on the sofa
and the dining room chair
illuminated by sunlight
floating in the air 
the fur flies.

We love them anyway
and keep the vacuum nearby
Sweet William and Petunia
sure-footed, impulsive and sly
whose fur flies.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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It's the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Not a creature is stirring,
Not even a mouse.

Mother and father,
Have put up a tree.
Think I'll just go climb it,
To see what I can see.

Look at all of this tinsle,
And paper and bows,
And yards of bright ribbons,
And lights all aglow.

Is all of this here,
Just for me and the others?
A tree for to climb,
A whole room full of wonders?

A place for us kitties,
To run through and chase,
And send decorations,
All over the place?

Then they can come in,
And rebuild it again,
Knowing that this,
Is all part of the game.

Then they can pretend,
To scold and be mad,
But in secret we know,
It makes their hearts glad,

To see us so happy,
And watch us at play,
Then they get to rebuild it,
It just makes their day.

Not all folks are like them,
It's no joke or jest,
These people of ours,
For sure, they're the best.

                                 Judy Ball

Aren't cats great.
They're fun, funny, curious and so affectionate.
They are total innocence wrapped in a fur coat.
A house is so much more interesting when shared with a pet.

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain |

Of Mice and Moles

Since moving to the country 
this fact has come to light,
maintaining our new home
gives us a battle to fight.

Newly graded and seeded lawn
quickly became uneven ground,
mole runs crisscrossed acres,
flowerbeds raided, bulbs gone.

Two hundred tulip bulbs  
along the fence last fall
produced not a single bloom,
little robbers ate them all.

We consulted local nurseries,
bought whatever they suggested.
Worked diligently all summer
but still were mole infested.

All remedies failed, until 
he answered a TV promotion. 
A sure-fire trap, with video,
guaranteed rodent extinction. 

"Wow, this really works," he said
"fifteen moles, I've zapped."
But moles must have internet,
mole runs detoured around traps.

Now he's using another method
flushes runs with a garden hose,
when the little sucker surfaces,
bashes him squarely on the nose.

Works well for my mighty hunter,
the toll is now twenty-two
but alas, a new battle arises,
cool weather brings someone new.

There's a mouse in the house
who's eluding every trap.
In spite of frantic searching, 
we have two frustrated cats.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

Calendar Cats

Calendar cats are the Pussy élite.
Silky or spiky, or butch, or effete,
Calendar cats are a privilege to meet …
They’re, oh! SO beautiful!

    My Bubble’s a bit smelly, and he doesn’t seem to care,
   And his poor old baldy belly has got ‘flying-away’ hair.
   He quacks and he sneezes, and he dribbles ev’rywhere –
   It’s not pretty at all …

Calendar cats have immaculate hair.
It’s sleek and it’s clean – not a flea anywhere;
But they’re paper, not real-life – it’s true, and you can’t
Hear them PURRing at all …

    Bubble’s greedy and he’s lazy, and his fur gets up my nose.
    He gets it in my dinner and he gets it on my clothes.
    He isn’t too hygienic at all, BUT – he PURRs
    Like a pneumatic drill …

My Bubble does nothing, and he does it all day.
When he’s not on my lap, then he’s still in my way.
He sleeps in my garden, and dreams of the old
Days, - when HE had it all …

But calendar cats only hang on the wall,
And when you need a cuddle they’re no use at all …

So I’ll cuddle my Bubble ...
Yes, I’ll cuddle my Bubble …
And I won’t want a calendar pussy at all …
No, I won’t want a calendar cat 
At all!

This is a waltz (3/4) rhythm, and verses 2 and 4 are in double time (6/8)
Sadly, Bubble is no longer with us, but he did live to nearly 20!

Copyright © Frances King | Year Posted 2009