There's A Pippy on My Porch

There's a Pippy on my porch and she stalks along the rail,

Watching for a careless bird, she flicks her nervous tail.

Each early morn she skips around, wanting to go out,

Hot or cold, it matters not, in her fur-about.

Her mottled gray with flecks of tan, blend in with the wood,

Swatting at a bumblebee, she'd eat it if she could.

She's such a little pipsqueak, that's how she got her name,

When she's inside she's quite polite, outside she's barely tame.

If I look outside and call her name, Pippy starts to preen,

Showing off her pretty face through the window screen.

When I'm cooking on the grill, hotdogs, fish or chicken,

Pippy lifts her nose up high, her lips she starts a-lickin'.

When it's time to take her nap and rest from having fun,

She spreads out across the deck bathing in the sun.

When autumn leaves fall down and crunch beneath her paws,

She looks up with a startled eye when the blackbird caws.

She likes all kinds of weather, even when the storm winds blow,

And in the winter, leaves her prints across the crested snow.

When in the eve I sit outdoors, I never am alone,

'Cause Pippy climbs into my lap to share my ice cream cone.

(But never chocolate, it's not good for pets!)

When she's done with frolicking, just like a pixie elf,

She can open up the door all by her Pippy self.

If we lived out on a farm, she'd be a barn cat on the go,

But since the city's where we live, Pip plays on our patio.

With her cute black nose and round green eyes that light up like a torch,

I look outside and laugh out loud, there's a Pippy on my porch!