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 . .