I have recently started writing some poetry. I would compare my style as Bukowski meets Yeats. I have not yet published any of my works, but I continue to troll away at my verses. As I was settling down to what seemed like a quiet weekend of poetry and jazz music drifting in my silk laden furry ears, I am once again thrown in the car by My Master and My Nemesis to an unfavorable destination where I know it will be a feat of great proportions to get any work done.
Once again I have been subjected to a weekend in Wisconsin. I am feel that I have to lower my I.Q. to about a fifty in order to fit in with these people. The car ride this time was okay, once again in the detested red saturn, but the weather has become crisp and enjoyable. I recently had to change my fur coat into a thicker more robust style. I feel that fall is right around the corner. We arrived late to our accommodations and immediately after getting out of the car to stretch my plump short legs I was accosted by a beast named Stella. She ran up with her spotted fur coat trying to bite and bark in my face. Her I.Q. could have not been much higher than a thirty. At least she was more bearable than this other beast referred to as Murderface. I do not condone this kind of behavior, and My Master knows my distaste in these scuffles, so she allowed for me to go in the house. Once entering I saw two prissy fellow furry animals with pink and blue bows in their long fluffy hair walking around barely over a foot tall. They both had scrunched up faces and not one intelligent thought to bring to the table. Oh, I thought, this is what they mean when they always mention "Dumb and Dumber." Now I have faces to put with the names. I was given a place to spend my time in the room where people defecate. Another typical Wisconsin weekend.
Later on, a gentlemen let me loose. Finally, I had a chance to go get some work done. I checked my surroundings and found a bench to sit upon a hill that overlooked lush green valleys and trees for miles around. I imagine that this is what the Shire looks like. It was the perfect setting to continue my work. I sat upon the hill alone in my thoughts for quite some time, a gently breeze making my ears flop lightly in the wind. I meandered my way back to the house and realized that there had been some worrying as to my whereabouts. What you people do not understand is that I will never stray far from the endless possibilities of food.
Later on, My Master arrived and brought me to a tent out back. I remained in the tent most of the night, only leaving through a small opening that My Nemesis had accidentally forgot to enclose to sneak away into the night to try and breed some inspiration from the "night's candles." My absence was not received in a gleeful manner from My Master, and when I returned I decided it would be best to keep a low profile so I slept on the cold tent floor without any blankets or pillows.
The sun rose and I was delighted for what my breakfast that morning. I had bacon, biscuit and gravy, and while I was on a long stroll in the thick of the forest, I ate some red berries for dessert. Although I have not gotten as much work done as I would like, I am pleased to say I have drawn some new inspiration in from my night in Wisconsin and ate some excellent cuisine. There was only minor criticism of my behavior from a man who was knitting on the couch questioning my fancy in licking others. I barely think he is credible. Real men write poetry, they do not knit.
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