"Stroke me," he purred; but she was too busy with whatever it is humans think they must do.
So, he climbed up to his favorite spot; a green, satin pillow close to the window. A radiant, solar magnet of choice,
And he fluffed his royal robe; a big, thick tail envied by many in the neighborhood, and closed his eyes,
And thought of his human and the dog down the street and beautiful Simba next door. Ah, Simba, fairest feline ever ~
And he becomes King of all Cats, with Simba as his Queen The Royals they would be, Napping in the sun, Romping in playful bliss; And she would give him heirs;
But his human comes over and strokes His Majesty and he awakens only for a moment.... then back again to his Kingdom.
I heard my master say that my lineage is of a wilder breed;
One not so suited to "fetch" or to be fenced or eat food from a can-
I heard my master say I am born from a place where you hunt your own meals and choose only one mate, and that is for life!
I heard my master say my brothers sleep under the stars each night and travel in pacs and protect their young;
And they are their OWN masters; and sing to the moon in
JOY!
