The wait for the cat

The search began at 13.45. In the hot blazing sun, I went around and around Roaming the premises of Park La Brea, calling “Leo”.

He did not respond, If he was hiding He knew it too well Maybe he was underneath the bushes Or, beneath a canopy Sunbathing, ruminating When his next meal would be.

I texted C, I was late. Though at that point I did not know I would be this late.

I called the neighbours None picked up. I was on my own in this, Like many other times.

The clock ticked on, He must be getting hungry, Or so. I am 2 hours late, This could cost me a home.

What do they think? These black things. Strutting about, their tails held high Oozing poshness.

Beckoning the world To their command, Their willfully yielded eyes.

Eight futile hours later, He swaggered along No remorse in his eyes Not an eyelid batted Sat on the porch, Waiting for the door to open.

He walked in Straight to his feed, Ate a little, Drank a little..

..and walked straight back out.