by Ann Green
Please Pass the Grass
By Ann Green
Cuddles thinks that grass is yummy.
She goes outdoors to fill her tummy.
Every time I’m near the door
She meows to go and get some more
It really isn’t good for her.
She loves it though, it makes her purr.
Helpless, I do whatever asked,
No matter the time, no matter the task.
Breakfast at five, a head scratch at dawn,
I’m her slave, I’m her pawn.
I always give in when she gets the urge,
I let her have at it, though I know she’ll regurg!
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