Ramsey, the cat, crawls up
onto the window ledge,
looks out at passing pedestrians
and traffic and also weather
when it does something interesting
like rain or hail or blow up a storm.
That feline has no interest whatsoever
in the goings on within the house.
Phone calls, shaving, showering,
watching television, getting dressed,
getting undressed -
none of it interests that beast.
I provide food, milk and water
But, though I eat when the food
comes from the microwave,
he reports to his dish
only as his schedule allows.
I'm sure I'm not the only one
who lives with indifference
but it's unnerving all the same.
If the house caught fire,
he would not lick me awake.
When I'm hungover with misery,
he does not come comfort
with a furry ankle rub,
a consoling purr.
When people ask if I have a pet,
I still reply, yes, a cat named Ramsey.
I don't want them thinking
that I live alone,
that my life is so boring,
that it's just not worth sharing.
One Ramsey is more than enough.