Always Bite the One You Love

Always bite the one you love

Because it makes them feel like a dove

Swooping in graceful arcs

That really really warm your heart.

“What do you think, Miles,” shouted Harold the ghost.

Miles was not in the mood to be trifled with. He sat near the front door, a new lock had been installed, the floors, windows, roof, toilet, and sink repaired, but everything in the cabin, including the door, still looked worn. Lenny had installed a satellite dish, so Miles had high speed Internet, and Rex had completed the basic house repairs and stabilized the table.
Miles was busy researching bookcases. Miles longed for an oak bookcase lined with autographed copies of all his favorite authors, such as Ernest Hemingway, Edwin Arlington Robinson, E.E. Cummings, John Steinbeck, Harper Lee, Kim Barnes, J. R. Tolkien, Edgar Allan Poe, Frank Herbert, Renée E. D'Aoust, Claire Davis, and Desiré Aguirre. He’d nestle between the books, with the scent of oak and warm pages.

Lenny, the ever so professional and dear man, had unpackaged Miles new smart phone and his mini iPad. Miles loved the feel of the keys on his finger, and better yet, loved touching the screen with his packrat tail. I have the world at the tip of my tail, he thought.

“Great rimes,” Miles said, staring at the screen.

“You really think so,” Harold replied.

“What I think is of no real consequence when it comes to Harold’s so called p-o-e-m-s,” Miles mumbled.

“Yes, quite right, old man,” Miles squeaked at the top of his lungs. “Harold, do you think you can take a break from your hard, and ever so delightful work, and come downstairs to look at bookcases.”

Harold ambled down the stairs, his head tucked under his right arm.

“Miles, I thought we agreed. No more home improvements.”

Milesed shut his eyes. “Quite right,” Miles said. “This was going to be a surprise, but, well, I need your advice. I wanted to purchase an oak bookcase for you in honor of your books to be.”

Harold’s eyes turned crimson. “Oh, Miles, that’s so thoughtful.”

“Oh, cats. Don’t cry, Harold. You’ll get the screen all blurry.”