Next Door’s Cat Stole My Steak

Next Door’s Cat Stole My Steak

I left it cooling by the window ledge,

A masterpiece, cooked nearly to fate,

Turned my back for half a second,

Returned to find an empty plate.

No trail of crumbs, no guilty shadow,

No broken dish, no obvious clue,

Only a twitch beyond the fence,

And eyes that said, I’d do it too.

Next door’s cat sat proud and silent,

Tail wrapped neat like royalty,

Not one ounce of shame displayed,

Just casual feline criminality.

I questioned him with proper manners,

Asked if he’d seen my dinner disappear,

He stretched, yawned, looked offended,

Then cleaned one whisker by one ear.

The neighbours claimed complete confusion,

Said their cat was sweet and kind,

Meanwhile steak sauce marked his chin,

Leaving very little left to find.

I listed charges in the garden,

Theft, betrayal, lunchtime crime,

He rolled onto the paving stones,

As if my speech was wasting time.

Now every meal gets close protection,

I guard my plate with endless care,

Though somehow every time I blink,

That furry outlaw still appears.

One day perhaps I’ll earn forgiveness,

Or win this battle fair and straight,

Until then I live defeated—

Next door’s cat stole my steak.

#Marie381UkWriter