She curled her tail around her toes,
Covering whiskers, chin and nose.
An ear twitch here, another there;
She claimed as hers the easy chair.

Tormentor of both mole and mouse,
She spent the summer out of house.
Plundered, pillaged, night and day,
No mercy for slow witted prey.

Summer passed and then the fall,
As bitter cold left wintry pall.
This feline wanted none of that;
Once more she posed as family cat.

She lay about each day and night:
Purred when stroked and feigned delight.
Her bowl, her chair and toilet place,
Were all she claimed as sovereign space.

The season wore on long and cold.
Outside all life seemed put on hold.
The feline lay there still as dead,
Entombed within her winter bed.

Come now the spring with days of fair;
The old cat stretched within her chair.
A well placed nose near open sill;
She sensed the much diminished chill.

Then rushed to door that still was closed.
Cries from her pleading throat arose.
Weaving through her mistress legs;
“Let me out”, brash feline begged.

As chipmunk fed in hemlock crotch,
Unfettered cat dashed off the porch.
With one quick scramble up the tree;
A winter cat she ceased to be.

Do we not marvel at her grace,
Ere all those months confined in place?
The cat resumes with guileless ease,
Her summer reign of fields and trees.