The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken written by Robert Frost is one of my mom and dad’s favorite poems.  They know it by heart and frequently say it to each other, each one picking up the next line until finished.  I feel like I know it by heart as well.  Sometimes mom will read it to me as a bedtime story.  Everytime I hear it, I can picture what is on the road not taken.  Can you?  I posted what I picture at the end of it.  Enjoy my friends!

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

 

 

Spotlight Thursday – Meet Charlee and Chaplin

Spotlight Thursday

Welcome my friends to SPOTLIGHT THURSDAY.  This is the time that I will introduce you to one of my fellow anipals so you can get to know them better.  Some of them, you may already know.  We hope that you enjoy this series!

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Name: We wrote a haiku about ourselves! Charlee and Chaplin
Two-toned cats in black and white
The Hipster Kitties

Age:  Charlee: We are exactly fifteen weeks old as of June 7th.
Chaplin: Yes, we’re still babies.
Charlee: Which I think means that nothing we do goes on our permanent records.
Chaplin: Yes, that’s right, Charlee. I looked it up.

Location:  Charlee: The San Diego area.
Chaplin: I thought it was Oceanside.
Charlee: Same thing.
Chaplin: Oh, okay.

Web/Blog Page:  Charlee: We wrote a free verse about it!
You can find us on Dennis’s Diary of Destruction
Which is at http://www.dennisthevizsla.com.
Although we should confess
That we haven’t seen Dennis destroy anything
Yet
Except for some scattered papers
That probably had it coming.

What were your first thoughts when you met your new parents?  Chaplin: It was when we were being kept in a big crate in the foster care office at the shelter.
Charlee: We were very young and very small.
Chaplin: They kept wanting to hold us.
Charlee: I think my first thought was, “Put me down.”
Chaplin: My first thought was “Why are these people recording our meows? Is it because they know we’re a great poetry team?”
Charlee: Later, of course, we found out it was because they were playing the meows back for Dennis at his meal times, to prepare him for our arrival.
Chaplin: I don’t think he appreciated the poems.
Charlee: I think he appreciated the meals, though.

What was the defining moment when you knew you were in your forever home?  Chaplin: Probably when they put up not one cat tree for us, but two cat trees.
Charlee: And a cat hammock with a scratching post!
Chaplin: You don’t commit to that kind of infrastructure for kittens who aren’t sticking around.

What has been your biggest “Oh no, now I’ve done it” moment so far in your home?  Chaplin: Probably when I let Dennis start sniffing me. Once you have dog breath all over you, I’m told, you can never get elected Cat President.
Charlee: Being Cat President is overrated.
Chaplin: How do you know that?
Charlee: Next question please.

 Who do you have wrapped around your paws more – mom or dad – and why?  Chaplin: Totally mom, because she likes to lie on the couch under a fleecy blanket and I like to make biscuits on the fleecy blanket, so I spend a lot of time on her lap purring and kneading dough.
Charlee: Totally dad. And I didn’t even have to do anything, either, except have a mustache.
Chaplin: You do things. I’ve seen you purring and rolling around on your back asking for belly scratches.
Charlee: That’s so he can see that my mustache looks like a three-leaf clover when I’m upside-down. Extra cuteness points.
Chaplin: Brilliant.

What’s the biggest misconception that humans think about you?  Charlee: Mom and dad think we’re just hipster poet kittens, but we’re really hipster poet performance artist kittens.
Chaplin: We keep doing interpretive dance for them, but they don’t get it.
Charlee: Yes, they just think we’re just wrestling.
Chaplin: We wrote a limerick about it.

There once were two cats who were dancing,
Pirouetting and mewing and prancing.
The humans kept saying,
“Oh how cute, they’re playing!”
And missed all the choreographing.

♥

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Hope you enjoyed meeting my friend – check back next week for another Spotlight edition!

 

Bad Poetry Day

Journalist Rocky the Squirrel here –

Keeping my paws on the nuts of the world!

Today is a day that was made for the most of us – Bad Poetry Day.  There are some that just couldn’t make a rhyme if their life depended on it.  That would be most of us here at the Hotel Thompson.  We are just not made that way.  But knowing that, we still had to publish Bad Poetry Day – a day that is perfect for us.  So my friends, I present to you our edition of Bad Poetry Day.  Forgive us now okay.

There once was a pig named Bacon

who wasn’t your standard pig at all.

His heart was always breakin’

because he didn’t have the gall.

The gall to ask Miss Piggy

to marry him and make his day.

He kept sayin’ it was no biggie

But his heart was always flown astray. 

 

Oh My Nylablue –

Uh-oh.  I’m in trouble with the love of my life – my Nylablue.  I’m in what dad calls the proverbial pig house – similar to a dog house.  You see, I was just fooling around yesterday on April Fools Day when I did a post titled I’m Sorry.   It was just a joke.  You know how us guys can be.  But my beloved, she read it and didn’t wait to go down to the bottom of the page so she thinks I strayed.  Which might I add, I would never do on my Nylablue – my heart – my sweet little purr thing that holds my piggy heart.  She wouldn’t even talk to me last night via her mom Sherri-Ellen.  My poor Nylablue stomped off to her bedroom and wouldn’t come back out.  Thus, I am in DEEP trouble.  I guess you could say this was our first squabble.  So I need to show my Nylablue how I feel about her.

My love Nylablue. My heart is only for you.

It’s not meant for any other.  You’re the glue that keeps me together.

You are so beautiful and I’m not delusional.

I love you with all my heart and there’s no reason for me to dart.

Because when I am about, I don’t want to be without.

You’re like a dove in my heart that fills me with such love.

So this little piggy loves his little kitty.

And here’s a ring for his sweet purr thing 🙂

 

The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken written by Robert Frost is one of my mom and dad’s favorite poems.  They know it by heart and frequently say it to each other, each one picking up the next line until finished.  I feel like I know it by heart as well.  Sometimes mom will read it to me as a bedtime story.  Everytime I hear it, I can picture what is on the road not taken.  Can you?  I posted what I picture at the end of it.  Enjoy my friends!

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.