October 5, 2015. Our tabby Ziggy is an outdoor man but used to the finer comforts of regular feedings, thanks to the Git-Em-Fed which cranks out daily portions. Its motor and accompanying patter of cat nibbles dropping into the stainless bowl are music to Ziggy’s ears, chiming time-to-eat. He’s a routine creature. He does not much like disruptions to his routine. Today he let me know his distress – expected food did not emerge from the rumble-tub!
Still feeling guilty, my own moment of distress lingering, I opened the WordPress Poetry 201 prompt calling for a poem using the word “gift” and a simile, in the acrostic form. Ah, perhaps a way to appease the feline gods for my lack of feeder diligence.
The picture of Ziggy is from another such day when he found his dish void of due gifts.
stepsandpauses 