Footprints on the Deck on a Snowy Day

It all started when the cat wanted to go out — AGAIN — and then immediately wanted back in.

“It’s so simple,” I tell her. “Just make up your mind.”

But a cat’s brain doesn’t quite work that way.

So I wrote this — with apologies to Robert Frost.

Whose prints these are I think I know
She’s sitting by the window though
Her paws touched cold that made her veer
When out she ran into the snow

My little cat must think it queer
Cold comes and goes this time of year
One day balmy, the next a flake
Falls — more fill the atmosphere

Outside I watch her shiver, shake
Inside she mews her bellyache
To go outside where snow is deep
I wish in-out would take a break

Rough tongue wakes me from my sleep
Purring, padding, claws not deep
Outside she goes, then in she creeps
Outside she goes, then in she creeps