Prayers to a modern Bastet

Please don’t puke on the wood floor

Please don’t pee on my expensive jacket

Please don’t chew on my shoes, power chords, hands, or hair

Instead, please let me brush you.

Please don’t fart on my face

Please don’t trip me when I stand, walk or bend

Please don’t try to jump from the 4th floor balcony — slowly jump down from the edge into my arms

Please let me pet your furry belly - the softest; most precious.

It’s not always a trap.

Please don’t scratch the sofa, my hands, my back, my legs

Please don’t steal my food

Please don’t ignore me

Instead, let me pee in peace.

I was brushing her.

Please don’t steal the leftovers

Please don’t emotionally blackmail me with your cries

Please don’t press on my bladder when you sleep on top of me

Please let me cut your nails, clean your eyes, and dispose of your dinkleberries.