December has crept in
on catlike toes, a seemingly soft
and adorable animal
with a wild side
that hunts in the night
and proudly places
mutilated prey on the doorstep
for its owners’ delight.

i’d say that August is better,
but with its expectant mews
and incessant need for
potty training, that baby
is far worse to care for
than a simple shoveling
of bones, blood, and fur
into the trash can.

perhaps in January
i can enjoy the soft purr
of an animal who knows its place,
and we can cuddle on the couch
under a blanket,
cat nip for him,
hot cocoa for me,
and remember how to relax.