I waid, y I waid, y I waid.
Ad las', she say, Cad! You may ead!
So I ead! Ees deelicious!
Then she hide ead frarm me. Porquewhy? Ees my grass.
Ad nigh' I cry por my grass. While the yoomans sleeb I corcle the table como un shargh, y I maghe eep como Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana.
She say I keell ead.
Bod ead is MINE to keell, I cry.
She say eed mos "recorber."
Forgheen' grass.
But if you keell ead when will you have more
ReplyDeletePut on yore securidad suit and go confeescade grasses from the heepies y punks on the street. They always got some in little plastic bags in theer pockets.
ReplyDeleteThe human buys us wheadgrass from the health foo store. We are very impatient.
ReplyDeleteHeath *food*.
DeleteI used to grow oat grass for my 20 lb. indoor cat. It was always pretty much ruined with the first attack, since he would flatten all the blades down. And next best thing to catnip for winding him up and causing humans to wish they hadn't given it to him. By the way, Cat's pidgin spanish is a good drill for my 69-year-old mind to decipher. Lynne, NC
ReplyDeleteStorbito, was it muchas grass-ias for you?
ReplyDelete