The guy who’d been to fit the thing
Had really got it wrong…
It didn’t even look too good
Nor was it very strong.
He’d charged a fortune for it
After which we’d had to wrangle
With cats who didn’t want to use
A cat-door at an angle.
At first they were reluctant
But they came to terms at last,
Then fat cat after feral cat
Were always shoving past…
It was inevitable
That the cat flap would soon break
And that is why I cannot move
And why I sorely ache.
“I need to fit a new one,”
Said my son, “Can you bob in?
The cats are meowling to get out
And yowling to get in!”
(I wouldn’t mind, but all these cats
Did not live there before…
They turned up for the auto-feed
When he installed the door…)
He’d bought the self-same model
So it should have been a breeze…
Just switch the fittings over
And we’d fit the thing with ease…
It never works out simply though
Or happens ‘just like that’…
Nor does it help when you are watched
Intently by the cat.
I wrestled with the ruddy thing
As night grew dark and cold,
They’d done it wrong, it wouldn’t fit…
And I am getting old…
I managed, though, eventually,
With fingers black and blue
I went home aching everywhere
And other places too!
At least the cats are happy,
All the felines in the ‘hood
Seem to approve my carpentry
And think my work was good.
Today I cannot move at all,
My spine and wrists are stuck.
If anyone wants anything today…
They’re out of luck.
But next time that they break the flap
And can’t get in the house?
They’d better learn screwdriving skills
Or go and catch a mouse!