Shit Scissors: A Poem

October 14, 2016 — 9 Comments

Dear Journal,

I was bored so I wrote a poem about a handy tool cat owners keep handy.

Shit Scissors: A Poem

A tool that is mostly used to cut through Christmas paper,

Scrapbooking or shearing hair or even stab a raper.

Scissors in my home, though, are assigned a different duty:

Trimming out the dookie caked around my kitty’s booty.

When our long-hair hunkers down to birth a stinky poopie,

It becomes a disaster when it gushes out soupy.

Watching it spill down her legs like melted chocolate ice cream,

I fought back insanity by belting out a high scream.

Failing to maintain myself in normal composition

Husband found me wallowing in a fetal position

He is one to approach situations more pragmatic

I admittedly, however, can be quite dramatic

Calmingly, he assures me that it’s all hunky-dory

Even though our feline is a prancing lavatory

“Everything will be okay,” promised my loving spouse.

But I whimpered, “She’s about to shit-stamp our whole house.”

Simply wiping off the mess she had wouldn’t placate me.

“Why don’t we burn down the house,” I asked rather irately.

Conveying dislike to the suggestion I presented

He grabbed the household scissors and the cat that I resented

“It will take two people,” he said, “to complete this mission.

So I will need your help in holding the cat in position.”

With a gentle, patient tone he provided his guidance.

His alternative to burning down the house made high sense.

First thing I did was hold the cat with its ass up high.

Then I lifted its tail, kissing my dignity goodbye.

He then used the scissors how God never had intended

(Use of rubber kitchen gloves is highly recommended).

As a side note: it’s okay to curse your God throughout.

For if this was a test, Him in my life I’ll do without.

Note two about cats who shit their legs: hold them firm

As those little bastards have a tendency to squirm.

Watching him trim away shit just like a skillful surgeon,

I tried to recall a greater love than him. There were none.

Once all done, the cat did wonder what the Hell did happen

But soon forgot and commenced a hearty butthole lappin’

 That was when I learned that a gauge to know Mr. Right

Is to feel during a task like that a pure delight.

So this advice to all cat owners is quite consequential.

Just like unrestricted love; shit scissors are essential.

9 responses to Shit Scissors: A Poem

  1. 

    “Shit Scissors”? LMFAO 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  2. 

    Thanks for the giggle, Cary. Believe me… I know (unfortunately from experience) how this feels… *sigh*
    😀

    Liked by 1 person

  3. 

    Brilliant poem Cary!
    I’m sorry that I have been delayed researching Mr.Tiddles heart problems. If you’re conformable emailing me, I’ll explain and pass on some great sources for information. Thanks, Robin

    Liked by 1 person

  4. 

    This has Nobel prize for literature written all over it.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. 

    Oh god.oh god. Oh god…… ….

    Liked by 1 person

Trackbacks and Pingbacks:

  1. Letting Go Doesn’t Get Easier « The Reluctant Cat Owner's Journal - August 9, 2020

    […] but ate well if you stayed and rested your hand on her back. And she once inspired poetry about shit scissors and comedy gold about how to keep cats out of Christmas […]

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