There’s a spot on the jaw, and under the chin,
That my fingers can touch, when he truly leans in.
Then his eyes squeeze shut and his head tips way back,
And I’m turning the tables with The Method Attack.
The soft rhythmic stroking, the flattening fur,
The deep-throated rumbling grows into a purr.
When I move to the belly, my hands fluttering ‘round,
He lifts his arms high, wordless hallelujah sound.
Then I switch to the backside, just over the tail
And renew ministrations – this one never fails.
As long as the animal opts not to bite,
His butt raises white flag, surrenders the fight.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2021)
*The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “METHOD”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
I like how his butt is raising a white flag. Nice use of rhyme and meter.
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Thank you, Frank!
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Love this Liz! Luna approves too 🙂
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Cat approved is the ultimate test! 🙃😉
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Good one, Liz. An excellent ode to our overlords the domestic cat species! 😸
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Thanks!
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Love your poetic description of appeasing the feline persuasion! Liz. Spot on 🙂
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He has me well-trained.
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Awww, that’s such a good poem and we can see it happening! Thanks for joining our Thankful Thursday Blog Hop!
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Thanks, Brian!
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