The Visitor

The sun was shining bright that day,
the rain had finally stopped.
Put on my shorts and favorite T,
slipped on my old flip-flops.

Slapped sunscreen on my face and neck
then grabbed my baseball hat.
Before I pushed on out the door
I stopped and fed the cat.

I climbed into my trusty Jeep
and turned the key to start.
It struggled to get going then
gave out a moaning fart.

Engaged the clutch, threw it in gear,
then rolled the windows down.
Turned on some music way up loud
and headed out of town.

I didn’t even have a plan,
just had a need to go.
Hey, maybe I would end up in
some place I didn’t know.

I drove six blocks before I braked,
pulled over to the side.
Yeah, there was something nagging me,
some voice from deep inside.

Something was buzzing in my head
just like a pesky gnat.
Then all at once it came to me!
I didn’t own a cat.

I turned my car and headed home,
my head was filled with doubt.
Hey, did I really have a cat?
I’d have to go find out.

And there he was as big as life,
just sitting on a chair,
looking like he owned the house
without a single care.

Now he’s been with me ever since.
That’s how it came to be.
You could say I adopted him
… or he adopted me.