Mwowin’ in the Wind

Groovy Greetings all you cats and kittens!  I’s got some great news!  Staff has built me my very own concert hall!  They’s callin’ it a front porch, but I’s here to tell ya that the accoustics are amazin’!  I’s been out there a-yowlin’—I means a-singin’ and my music carries all through the house and out into the yard!  I’s startin’ ta think of myself as the feline Bob Dylan, yup a Kitty Troubador, folk-mwower extraordinaire!  Check out what I plan to open my concert with:

How many birds must a cat stalk down,                                                                         

before you can call him a cat?

Yes, and how many times must the birdie land,

Before he lands in my mouth?

Yes, and how long will treats be kept in a canister,

before canisters are banned?

The answer, my kitty friends, is mwowin’ in the wind’

The answer is mwowin’ in the wind.

I’ll be a-mwowin’ nightly from the windowsill of my new concert hall.  Staff has already been askin’ for encores!  I’s hopin’ to get a band together and go on the road instead of goin’ to the “kitty hotel” next time staff travels.  Thinkin’ I’ll cut ya loose now, my kitty friends, to work on some new songs.

Peace, love and mwows,

Pook ‘Dylan’

(Apologies and thanks to the real Bob Dylan–actual lyrics for Blowin’ in the Wind accessed from http://orad.dent.kyushu-u.ac.jp/dylan/blowwind.html )

The Taiga’s Top Predator

Early winter nightfall.  The temperature goes down with the sun.  Pookie, the taiga’s top predator, silently stalks the barren steppes in search of warmth.  The clever Pook realizes he must burrow; burrow deeply to maintain enough body heat to survive the hostile conditions.  Ah yes.  Warmth at last.  The walls of the burrow surround and comfort like…….like…….like being all wrapped up in winter flannel sheets.  Yes.  Pook could almost imagine himself back at home, burrowed under the flannel sheets of the staff’s bed.  He remembers chuckling to himself, heh, heh, heh, as one staff calls to the other, “Come see the lump in the bed.”  Silly staff.  They can’t tell it’s me!  One then says to the other, “Where’s Pook?”  They’ll never find me, heh, heh, heh.  Wait.  What’s that sound?  Could it be an ice storm raging outside the burrow?  It rattles like chow falling into a bowl…..and now?!  That rustling…..it’s…..it’s….TREATS!  I must have them…….but I’m out in the middle of nowhere……oh……whatever.  The taiga’s top predator leaves his burrow and runs to the kitchen, leaving the frozen steppes behind….for now.  Mwow.