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A Poem About A Strip. A Strip About A Poem.

A Cat’s Map Of The Bed, in poetry form.  Thanks Master Poet Teresa!

Who’s going to add the music and when it this going to Broadway??  Get on it, people.  The cat needs kibble.

At the end of this post, you will find a more morose strip about a poem…


The original date of this strip is

A Map Of The Cat Bed (Human Of Course!)
Inspired by a wonderful drawing by Hilary B Price.

Their bed is multifunctional,
a scientific fact.
Divided into sections,
to accommodate a cat.

To understand the theory,
just think in terms of zones.
Each section has its purpose
which every cat, just owns!

The crucial place for stretching
is located at the top.
Just below the pillows,
to optimize the flop.

The middle topmost section
is for the night time sleep.
To the right of that the barfing zone,
In case you sleep too deep!

Then we have the parlour,
for that little night time groom.
The rasping tongue and scratching
seems to echo round the room.

The dressing table launch pad
is located on the right.
It’s clear for any take off,
in the middle of the night.

Foot attack and hurdling zone,
is at the bottom of the bed.
Following the foot assault,
It’s back up to the head!

So the mapping is completed,
every inch is spoken for.
Every angle is included,
it’s now the law of paw!

Teresa Harrison-Best

And here’s a strip from last year about a poem. More specifically, a poem about a rare and radiant donkey.


The Early/Late Christmas Gift, Part 2

Apparently, my happy tale of my car keys getting returned to me 5 years later (see previous blog post) begs the question, “HOW did they get returned to me?”

Fine.  You have a point.

They were found in an abandoned filing cabinet in the hallway of my building.  (I did not put them there.)  The kind person who found the keys took them to the supermarket and had the service desk scan the shopping card.  My name came up.  Turns out, we know each other.  Her studio is four doors down from mine.  She inherited the cabinet from the person who had her studio before her, and it’s sole purpose for these last many years was to hold a potted plant on top of it and stand next to the entrance of the men’s bathroom.

She returned the keys to me by unlocking my studio with my studio key (also on the ring) and kindly depositing them with a note.


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