I thought I could rewrite this to accommodate three distinct kitty personalities, but that’s just too much of a challenge right now. (Hey, one out of three ain’t bad!)
“The Kitty”
Once upon a midday bleary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of commercial lore –
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a "thud"ding,
As of some cat gently padding, padding past my office door.
“‘Tis some old furball,’ I muttered, 'padding past my office door –
Only this and nothing more.”
[skip a stanza]
And the soothing sweet besotted purring of this well-fed kitty
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I sat repeating:
“'Tis some moocher entreating cat treats at my office door –
Some mock-starved eater entreating cat treats at my office door–
This it is and nothing more.”
[skip a few more here]
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a mew and mutter,
In there stepped a stoutly kitty who of all diets did deplore.
Not the least exercise made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
But, with mien of lord or lady, flopped inside my office door–
Flopped upon an IKEA floor rug just inside my office door–
Flopped, and passed gas, but nothing more.
Then this ebony cat beguiling all my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crotch be fixed and un-ballsy, thou,” I said, “art sure no sissy,
Ghastly grim and ancient kitty wandering from the kitchen floor–
Tell me what thy lordly want is on the office’s hardwood floor!”
Quoth the kitty, “Feed me more!”
[guess]
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Kitty whose cat-yaks threatened my IKEA-ed floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, "thy Gut hath lent thee – by these devils he hath sent thee
Respite – relief and hairballs from thy groomings from before!
Hold, oh hold your foul ejecta and return to the kitchen floor!
Quoth the kitty, “[yaks] On this floor!”
[you got it]
And the kitty, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting,
On the hardwood floor and floor rug just inside my office door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And the stain from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!