A Tribute to My Folks

A few weeks back, I heard noises around rainbow.
First, it was "Happy Mother's Day!"
And this month, it was "Happy Father's Day!"

I often hear birthday noises where people
sing their off-key notes hoarse
over their blasted karaoke or magic sing
or what-have-you freaking gadget
and you can hear the commotion
five houses away! Holy soundworks!

Well, finally, when my keeper arrived from church
one day, she goes directly to my Papa Sumo,
and in her sing-song tone blasted out:
"Happy Father's Day!"
Wh-what?
Are we celebrating that in heaven, keeper?

Of course, little one!

Aha, so my Papa Sumo is part of
"Happy Father's Day"?

Yeah, and you better greet Pica too
because last month, it was her day!

Mumsy Pica is part of
"Happy Mother's Day"?
Aw wait a minute, keeper.
You forgot to greet her on time!
What's with you anyway!

Ok, I'm sorry, little one.
I thought I greeted Pica
but I'm not sure.
Are you sure I did not greet her?

Nah. You didn't, keeper.
My ever snoopy ears will
definitely hear anything like that.

And so today,
I'm joining the screaming masses
down blasting rainbow avenue:
"Happy Folks Day!"

My Papa Sumo with his bat ears
will surely be proud of me even
if he looks irritated all the time.
My Mumsy Pica will be confused,
"wh-what's all this noise?"
My keeper told us Mumsy Pica
is 112 years old in human years
so she always sport this lost look.
My Papa Sumo however is half her age.
After all, he was still a puppy
when he mated with my Mumsy Pica.

But I'm delighted and thrilled to say
I have the best folks and best place
than any blasted mongrel in rainbow . . .
And my best-ever moments
are spent cuddling with my Mumsy Pica
in her small, collapsible house
while heaven purrs and murmurs
with abandoned sighs.

Have a happy folks day too!

Hunyo, hung-hang

June is wet, wet, yet hot.
C'est tres, tres chaud!
whatever that means . . .

I hear people wailing their weather blues
"hot, humid, rainy, wet, argh!". . .

Keeper raises her hands
facing the sky and calls out:
"Saint Peter, let it rain!"


Wh-hat?
Is she calling Saint Peter from the sky?
My other keeper (I have three actually)
tells me sky indicates heaven.

Wh-hat?!?
but isn't heaven supposed to be here
right where I'm standing, er, sitting
while having my smooth and silky fur
brushed like mad for over an hour now?

Er, yeah actually.
But you know, sweety
the other keeper thinks otherwise.

Nah! You're pulling my legs.

Well, ok, you snooty thing
save your drool and lemme explain.
Our place is indeed called 'heaven'
but there is another place called heaven.

What? Another heaven?
Gee, isn't life simple?
Here I sit and mutter how lucky I am
to be in heaven and my wish to be holed
forever in heaven and now you tell me
there is another heaven?!?

It's a fantasy, silly.
Nirvana is a paradigm.
A place where humans go
for good behavior, oki?

Whew! Holy frog!
What a relief!
That means that creatures like
houndsky, catsky, micey, birdy,
dragonpie, lizardpie, butterpie
and all loveable creatures in heaven
are spared from all that.

Ok, humid June and all . . .
I'm ok. . . shiny fur and all
I'm jaz fine and in heaven . .