I felt like a little poetry again today. This is for Arioch. The name has biblical origins, but that's not where I got it from. I first found the name in one of my favorite childhood reads, Michael Moorcock's, Elric Saga. He was a demon lord that embodied ultimate evil and beauty. When I first got that adorable little guy you see on the sidebar to your right, he was the cutest little thing in the world. He was also the meanest, wildest little bastard of a kitten that I'd ever run across, so naturally the name just fit. After a brief explanation to my wife about the origins of the name we decided to change it from "Fatty" his former name from the people who gave him to us. Now that he is so fat though, we might have been better off keeping the original name. He is 26 lbs of terror and bad temper; still cute as hell though.
Arioch
You leap from your throne of a chair,
You soar like a small angry bear.
You snarl and you bite,
Then again you take flight,
You're a black and white terror,
To cross you an error,
Mouth open wide in a silent roar,
You stalk from couch and chair - to door.
Silent assassin; fat little ninja of fur.
You are a fickle cur.
Foot fetish frenzied lover of feet,
Wiggle my toes and you bound and you leap,
Your purr a mountain slide.
Then up to my lap you do glide.
Oof, you're not a kitten anymore!
You must be careful, I implore!
You do not listen and do not care,
Again you leap away like a small angry bear.
You flatten yourself and wiggle your rump,
Then tear after poor Nix with a whoosh and a thump.
You lumber and rage,
As if trapped in a cage,
She runs circles around you with ease.
She jumps and she dodges and swats with a tease.
Then you pounce with a roar and a rumble,
A crash and a tumble,
Too mighty for your prey;
Somehow she slips away,
Run, and run, to live another day.
Fatigue the conqueror takes his toll,
Scratch on your scratching poll,
Then you yawn a toothy grin,
and fall deep asleep, - fin.
You soar like a small angry bear.
You snarl and you bite,
Then again you take flight,
You're a black and white terror,
To cross you an error,
Mouth open wide in a silent roar,
You stalk from couch and chair - to door.
Silent assassin; fat little ninja of fur.
You are a fickle cur.
Foot fetish frenzied lover of feet,
Wiggle my toes and you bound and you leap,
Your purr a mountain slide.
Then up to my lap you do glide.
Oof, you're not a kitten anymore!
You must be careful, I implore!
You do not listen and do not care,
Again you leap away like a small angry bear.
You flatten yourself and wiggle your rump,
Then tear after poor Nix with a whoosh and a thump.
You lumber and rage,
As if trapped in a cage,
She runs circles around you with ease.
She jumps and she dodges and swats with a tease.
Then you pounce with a roar and a rumble,
A crash and a tumble,
Too mighty for your prey;
Somehow she slips away,
Run, and run, to live another day.
Fatigue the conqueror takes his toll,
Scratch on your scratching poll,
Then you yawn a toothy grin,
and fall deep asleep, - fin.