I lifted my head, alert now, ready to spring away
if things got really ugly, my tail flicking,
as they lunged
and lumbered, blotchy-red screaming faces
spittle-thick with hate raw like blisters, circling
began to be thrown, wounds opening up, mess
splattering, the roaring gone really crazy now,
off the couch, my favourite soft cosy spot
good for surveying the inner house and keeping
I absented myself, with all the calm assurance
of my breed - contained, lithe, unhurried.
Truly a queen.
The back porch
afforded its sunny protection, and I casually washed
as I waited for the human din to subside.
The noise fell.
After some time
I could hear the strained, murmuring voices
of reconciliation and then - louder, gruffer:
'Where's the animal?'
28 August 2011