by Billy Joe
The unabashed independence of a furry friend.
In Envy of Our Kitty
(in memory of Kit-Ton)
I wish I could be like my cat,
curled in a ball on the couch,
lying in the warm pool of sunshine
flowing through the window,
as she catnaps in
When she opens her eyes,
I know she will stretch
a leisurely stretch and then,
light as a whisper will pounce
to the floor and find herself
something to eat.
She is able to entertain herself
with the slightest thing --
a candy wrapper, a bit of string.
At times she will cuddle herself
onto my lap and boldly demand
my caresses, seeking the strokes
she feels she has earned not for
anything she has done, but
only because she is,
and that is enough.
The next time she comes around,
just when I believe I have established
some special bond with her, and
that, at last, we are to be
she will walk by me,
as if I weren't there at all.
She doesn't need me, you see.
She is totally self-reliant and self-assured.
Ours is a friendship of convenience,
her convenience more than mine.
She gives as much as she wills,
If I seek more
than she is willing to give,
that has nothing to
do with her.
The world looks after her for
she looks after herself.
There is no false altruism here.
She is looking out for number one.
If I, in the course of her being,
find some joy in her existence,
my experience is tangential.
Her joy, you see,
is in living her own life,
and the enjoyment we
find in her life is exactly
In her perfect selfishness,
she is not only true to herself,
she is true to life itself.
we in our many masks
maybe we have fooled
no one but