Socrates, the professor cat,
Loves to teach and lecture.
Whether he gets his point across
Is sometimes merely conjecture.

When left alone for a period of time,
He'll meet you at the front door
Where he will greet you on your return
And also give you what for.

"Excuse me," he says in his feline way,
"But you would be obtuse
If you failed to see that your actions
Border on cat abuse.

"Yes, we're independent, BUT
Frankly, my dear, you seem
To want to exploit our autonomy
By taking it to the extreme."

He lectures for quite a while, for he
Wants you to do your best
When the time approaches for you
To take another test.

"You know we value promptness," he adds,
"And I don't mean to be rude,
But when our dinner is not on time,
We're NOT in a very good mood.

"Research, you know, is vital and your
Failure to study impedes
A total understanding of what
Constitutes our needs."

He constantly tries to teach you patience
And thinks your dedication
To knowing his mind for both of you
Is a win-win situation.

If you misplace something, such as
Your watch, your keys, or a ring,
He'll stare at you as if to say,
"Oh, you poor, poor thing."

When you're frazzled, his calm demeanor
Implies that you at least
Would benefit from the study of ancient
Wisdom of the East.

He likes to observe from afar as you
Go about your activities,
Ever watchful to see if you are
Developing harmful proclivities.

At other times he just sits back
To see how much you've learned
And tries to silently calculate
How much praise you've earned.

If he desires a tasty treat
And thinks that you're withholding
Something from him, you'd better watch out:
You'll be getting a scolding.

Admonishingly, he says, "Do NOT
Think my methods nefarious,
It's just that learning broadens your being.
Take it from THIS Sagittarius."

You think you're one step ahead of him--
At least so you assume.
But Socrates will let you know
Who is teaching whom.

-by Bob B (2-16-20)