My Dumb Cat
 
 


by Bruce Lansky
 
   

My cat never comes when I call her.
She cannot remember her name.
Her brain is the size of a thimble.
And that’s why my cat is so lame.

I tried to teach her to roll over,
to shake, beg, and fetch wooden sticks.
We practiced and practiced and practiced.
My dumb cat could not learn the tricks.

Then one day my cat was a hero.
She captured a small, squeaky mouse.
She hid the dead mouse in the sofa.
My dumb cat stunk up the whole house.

I wonder why cats were invented.
They eat and they drink and they purr.
There’s only one trick they know how to do:
they sit on your lap and shed fur.

 

Text © Bruce Lansky, reprinted from My Dog Ate My Homework published by Meadowbrook Press. Illustration © Stephen Carpenter. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.

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