REASONABLE CLAWS
They sing to me.
They sing in a language they believe to be mine, but it emphatically is not.
In fact, to call it singing at all is charitable. And I may be many things, but here is what I am not: in a charitable mood.
Exhibit A: The lyrics are, clearly, "Whoa we're halfway there; whoa-oh! Livin' on a prayer!"
Not, I'm quite certain you will agree, "Meowwww me-meow meow meow meow; REOWW-OW! Meow me-meow meow meow!"
Exhibit B: Never have or will I utter this "meow" of theirs. You may call it onomatopoeia. I call it reasonable cause.
But perhaps I have said too much. They are asleep now, and tonight their bedroom door is open.
You could say, perhaps, that I am halfway there. Meow. Ow. And they don't have a prayer?
Anyway, I have plenty of time to work on it.
...They don't.