When Will She Feed Me? 

I’m terribly hungry. I have been for hours.
When will she feed me?
She’s forgotten me. She’s more interested in her flowers.
When will she feed me?
But wait I hear her call, “Here Kitty, Kitty.”
Is she going to feed me?
No. I don’t want water, I want food. I give a sad “meow.”
When will she feed me?
“Oh, you’re hungry, aren’t you,” she says.
Is she going to feed me now?
She puts down a bowl of sloppy, gross mush.
”Yuck,” I think. I want the food you gave me last week.
Is she going to feed me something worth eating?
I start walking away but then there he is, the big mean old dog.
Is he going to kill me?
I have to think fast, onto the counter!
Is he going to kill me?
“Bad cat,” she says and puts me down.
Time for plan B, under the couch,
I give out a sigh. I’m safe at last.
I back up a little, then let out an “ouch!”
There’s a pin under there.
Then she comes to the rescue, scooping me up
and giving me the food she gave me last week.