Back in the mid-1990s I adopted, sight unseen, a large black cat named Montel. At the time, that was the name, too, for a popular African-American television talk show host. Who would name a cat Montel? Some things are inexplicable.
I didn’t rename Montel, in fact, I never thought of doing so. But that name raised eyebrows with everyone Montel met. I wrote a little ditty in metered verse about him around the year 2000. Since then I have had no desire to write poetry again.
Montel’s a Lug
“Montel’s a lug!”, I’ve heard it’s said, the neighbors say it’s true
But a lug is something heavy, something slow and clumsy, too
Montel is somewhat overweight but goodness aren’t we all?
Instead he’s quick and pretty slick, a cat that just won’t stall
He’s quick as summer lightning when the food dish hits the floor
Jumps right back like Fred Astaire, to miss the icebox door
Call him Beezelbub or Wysiwyg or even Husker Du
But not a lug, on no, dear friend, a lug will just not do
A rapscallion pure and simple, he’s equipped with all the tools:
A tooth filled jaw and awesome claws; a mouth that barely drools
He’s the essence of a gato, although he lacks a tail
But where he lost it no one knows, although some think in jail
So keep that lug for lug nuts, or for lugs of pears and peach
But don’t tack it on to Montel for politeness you will breach
Lift your voice in song and praise for a cat that’s oh so true
A tough old mug, a kindly thug, but not a lug to you!
