Story Poem, Nr.24 — Dogged Grace

  
Aunt Mabel visited one day  
and managed in her usual way  
to skewer all the homely chat  
by bringing her obnoxious cat,  
a spoilt beast as one may guess  
and here’s the story to confess:  
   
The family time was Sunday lunch  
a pleasantry, but here’s the crunch  
for when it came to clear the table  
watch the actions by Aunt Mabel  
deftly as the scraps go round  
with scrappy-scrapy type of sound  
the plates on reaching table’s end …  
she grabs them quickly to defend  
the tasty morsels for her pet —  
an act her hosts would not forget  
for Wilf, their dog, lies by the fire,  
he trusts routine for plain desire  
and wakes to food by salivation  
ambles in a concentration  
makes his way to kitchen’s bowl  
as is his normal happy role  
to find Aunt Mabel’s precious cat  
one step ahead to where it’s at -  
with coiffured hair and polished teeth  
the cat gulps down the scraps of beef  
and Wilf now struck by broken trust  
is left to lick the crumbs and dust  
and with transgression of the law  
like Oliver does ask for more …  
the cat, high up on Mabel’s knee    
conveys superiority  
and purring with a fiendish grin  
stroked by her mistress on the chin  
in high and mighty disposition  
sneers at Wilf’s now glum position  
and rudely spits in poor Wilf’s face!  
but Wilf, a dog of dogged grace  
acceptingly counts one-to-ten  
forgives the cat, and then again  
returns to lie next to the heat  
and sees his life as still complete —  
he ponders by the crackling fire  
“the situation isn’t dire  
though stolen beef is not so great,  
’tis well an’ good, I’m overweight”.