The cat of very little brain…

…very little ears and a sweetly strange personality. Sometimes Ninnie comes down from the attic where she plays with lizards

Ninnie about to roll

and sits on my desk or telephone

Nin on desk

until she falls onto my lap

Ninnie no ears

or rolls onto the floor

Ninnie attention grabber

or just tries to grab my attention.

Ninnie reading

She prefers to read sideways

Ninnie killing a few typos

but I draw the line when she tries to remove typos with her claws.

A haibun for an adventure

Yesterday, the Ninnie cat ventured forth in the dark. She boldly went where Ninnie rarely goes for fear of things that go bump and bite. Usually silent, we heard her growl and hiss beneath the window, a scuffle then the thud as she ran (she thuds). I flung open the window and called, but she didn’t reply (she’s a cat of sorts) and she can’t jump so high anyway. Fearing the worst, we grabbed flashlights and ran for the door. She was on the porch, still growling, staring into the night. The flashlight showed the terror, the wild beast, unperturbed beneath the window where I had hung, shouting—a hare.

Night fears hang

invisible threads a veil

to common sense.

ninnie right way