An old, drafty apartment, an old stove, the middle of a cold winter, two cats

THE KITTY ROASTER

In the kitchen of my apartment
Stands a very old stove:
Gas and yellow enamel-
A stove like they used to make
With an apartment heater built in:
It wouldn't pass code today.

Mine has a unique feature:
A kitty roaster-
A place between stove and wall
Maybe four cats long
By about one fat cat wide,
Where the old yellow vinyl floor
Is impossible to keep clean,
No matter how hard I try.

For three seasons of the year
It is a convenient cat conduit,
A fast feline shortcut
From the living room
To kibble and water dishes
On the other side.

But in the fourth season,
When the flimsy outer walls
Never quite hold back
Winter’s cold blasts and chill
It serves a higher calling
For my old ginger tabby:
He backs into the space
And plops himself down
Right next to the heater part,
Situated just so,
Roasting his arthritic old bones,
And keeping a sharp eye out
In case a snack passes by
On its way to the living room.

He stays there until the big black cat
Becomes jealous of his elder’s comfort
And turfs him out-
Appropriating the kitty roaster
As his very own.
But don’t cry for the old one;
Wise in the ways of cat-dom
He knows where all the warm spots are,
And has them all mapped out
On his personal, internal GPS.

He usually heads
To the other side of the kitchen wall,
Where a new cat bed sits:
Ginger like him,
Made from an old wool sweater
And plenty of fluff.
It grabs and holds heat
Quite nicely, thank you,
And so he lays,
Warm and comfy,
And plots his revenge.

-Chip Bergeron
January 14, 2014