Waiting Up for Rosco

I’m out the back waiting for the cat

to come home.

It’s Bev’s cat. She’s gone to bed.

Left me in charge.

Somebody has to do the dirty work.

I rattle the biscuit tin.

Rosco, Rosco, I call out

but Rosco doesn’t come.

Rosco will come when he’s good

and ready.

The stars have come out. The moon’s gone down.

I rattle the tin a little more vigorously.

Rosco, Rosco ,,,, a little more loudly.

A plump shadow shuffles around the back.

O there you are, I say. Nice of you to drop by.

Where have you been?

Out, he says .

It’s like talking to a teenager.

Well, I hope you practised social distancing,

I say.

Show me the food, he says, then we can talk,

What sort of name’s ‘Rosco’ for a cat, anyway?.