A silly thing that popped into my mind one day, born from the question: “What do our pets really think of us humans?”
Sometimes I wonder what they think,
These creatures we call pets.
What do they think of our behavior,
And how we speak to them.
Are they amused by baby talk,
As we tell them that they’re cute.
Do they find us infantile,
Or do they just play along?
Whatever does my kitty think,
When I clean her litter box?
Is she upset that I unearth,
What she has properly buried.
What do they think when we, yes we,
Do not feed them on time?
Are we cruel torturers,
To deprive them of their food?
When they give us those strange looks,
What do they really think?
Is there something in their heads at all,
Or are they merely zoning out?
Sometimes I think my cat is dumb,
When she play runs into walls.
But other times she seems to know,
Exactly what I think.
And then there’s my friend’s business,
It’s what you call a ferret group.
There was that one who seemed to think,
That he owned everything.
I recall that night in the bathroom,
When I tried to brush my teeth.
That silly, silly ferret boy,
He kept sitting inside the sink.
And I was charmed by the girl,
At the time, she was quite bald.
She always tried to climb so high,
Was she a cat in her past life?
Perhaps the thing about our pets,
Is not to think too much.
Merely accept that they have their ways,
With unique personalities.