A COMFORT TO US

An Old Russian Prayer

Hear our prayer, Lord, for all animals,

May they be well-fed and well-treated

and happy:

Protect them from hunger and fear and

suffering:

And, we pray, protect specially, dear Lord,

The little Cat who is the companion of our

home,

Keep her safe as she goes abroad,

And bring her back to comfort us.

CONFESSION

Paul Gallico (1896-1976)

I've been named Poosie, and

I am spoiled

Thoroughly, thouroughly spoiled, and I like it.

And don't let anyone tell you different.

I lie upon the softest cushions,

Under the downiest covers

And love every moment.

I get the cream off the top of the milk every day

And special double thick, heavy on Sundays,

And I lap it up.

My owner is besotted.

She hugs and kisses me

And carries me around with her all day,

And talks to me and I enjoy it.

I'm spoiled rotten, and, friends,

That's the life.

Whatever I want, I cry for,

Crab, lobster, caviare, fish roes, sardines, fillet,

white meat of chicken,

You name it, she's got it,

I get it.

I don't want to work, or hunt.

If ten snow-white mice were to saunter past

my nose,

I wouldn't lift a paw.

I'm greedy, graceless, shameless, lazy,

And luxury loving.

Everything that comes my way I take,

And yell for more.

I'm spoiled useless.

I admit it.

And I adore it.