You want me to be a dog, so I'll try.
I look quite like one, anyway -
I have four paws, a furry coat,
a set of whiskers.
I have a tail that wags - though
for different reasons. Yours wags
when you're happy, mine when I'm
anxious. I'll try to be happy when
I'm anxious, but it might not work.
I may suddenly turn, show my claws,
bite. And that'll perturb you.
It sends mixed signals.
So now you know what it's like
to get mixed signals.
I try to be a dog, because that's
what you are.
But I'm a cat.
Not a bad excuse
for a dog.
Accept me for being a cat -
that's all I ask.
Until you do, don't expect me
to be a very good dog.
You go chase a ball.
I really can't be bothered.
Bits of string interest me more.
And being alone.
Away from you.
Because your bark and your bite
are equal in the damage they do.