by Camilla Jean Welsch
My job is to kiss you,
to hold you gently while you purr,
though you are a big dog and not a cat!
But it is my job to do just that…
to kiss your paws,
though no one else would (because of the dirt),
to assist you with your leg stretches
(like you were a primo ballerino)….
Yes, to feed you, hydrate your healthy pink tongue,
and basically make sure you are all right all the time…
to talk to you, even debate you and then lose the argument,
which ends with a milk bone from the top shelf or a meatball from a simmering pot… whichever is dearest at the time…
You’d think you were my child…
but you are my angel.
My angel child.