Perspective

It tends to slip my mind
from time to time
that though I have
neither called nor beckoned
he is there, small but
imperious, the rightful ruler
of this modest manse 
we call home. His outrage
at our unforgivable oblivion
to his presence, as we
sit at table delectating
over our meal represents a 
personal affront he can not,
despite the goodness of his
little heart, overlook. Surely
we are slow learners
not yet realizing fully in 
the maturity of our long
years together that it is we
at his beck and call.