The Lord is my catherd, I shall not respond—until I am good and ready.
He maketh me do nothing I don't want to do—except for
an occasional flee bath, ear treatment, pill swallowing or hair matte removal,
All of which I maketh Him regret!
He feedeth me beside the spilled waters
that I leave when I play in my water dish.
He giveth me treats and cleaneth up hairballs.
He restoreth my litter box!
He taketh me on walks to the park for His amusement sake,
And carrieth me, since I will not follow.
Yeah, though we walk through the alley of the barking of dogs,
I can take out my fear of evils upon Him!
The height of Your head, it comforts me!
Like a treetop of safety in the presence of mine enemies!
My hair sticketh upwards!
He forgiveth the scratches, lacerations and teeth marks.
Surely tuna and warm milk shall still pamper me, all the days of my life,
And I shall curl on His lap and purr—when I FEEL like it.
