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
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,
Show me the food, he says, then we can talk,
What sort of name’s ‘Rosco’ for a cat, anyway?.