When first that canine Ziggy came to wreck my sweet content
I felt assured that his attacks I’d slyly circumvent,
For he was so unsubtle, he was hardly worth a scoff –
But though I humbled him repeatedly, he just would not lay off.
When first he came into my home, he was easily evaded
His clumsy, bullish charges left me angry, but soon, jaded;
A quick leap to a tabletop, and lo, the threat was done.
With each witless repetition, I would smile and hiss “Strike one!”
When finally it dawned on him that he might need to swerve
If ever he would stand a chance of following my curve,
I introduced my screwball, which has fooled more than a few,
Then smiled my sweetest smile and meowed to him, “Strike two!”
But then one day he caught me undefended on the lawn;
He growled “At last I’ve got you! Come on, let’s get it on!”
His ears lay feathered back like wings upon a diving hawk;
No time to flee – I’d have find another way to balk
His fell designs, that might well cause a lesser cat to cower,
The fearsome fangs that quite well might a lesser cat devour.
Quicksilver quick, I turned on him and that turn gave him pause,
Just long enough to give his nose a good taste of my claws.
Behold the mighty hunter flee the scene of his disgrace;
Red holes festoon his tender nose and shame his fleeing face;
Behold victorious Tabby, how her tail triumphantly
Twitches as she softly purrs, “Afraid that was strike three.”
