Hamlet's Soliloquy
                (if Hamlet were a cat)

   To go outside, and there perchance to stay
   Or to remain within: that is the question:
   Whether 'tis better for a cat to suffer
   The cuffs and buffets of inclement weather
   That Nature rains on those who roam abroad,
   Or take a nap upon a scrap of carpet,
   And so by dozing melt the solid hours
   That clog the clock's bright gears with sullen time
   And stall the dinner bell. To sit, to stare
   Outdoors, and by a stare to seem to state
   A wish to venture forth without delay,
   Then when the portal's opened up, to stand
   As if transfixed by doubt. To prowl; to sleep;
   To choose not knowing when we may once more
   Our readmittance gain: aye, there's the hairball;
   For if a paw were shaped to turn a knob,
   Or work a lock or slip a window-catch,
   And going out and coming in were made
   As simple as the breaking of a bowl,
   What cat would bear the household's petty plagues,
   The cook's well-practiced kicks, the butler's broom,
   The infant's careless pokes, the tickled ears,
   The trampled tail, and all the daily shocks
   That fur is heir to, when, of his own free will,
   He might his exodus or entrance make
   With a mere mitten? Who would spaniels fear,
   Or strays trespassing from a neighbor's yard,
   But that the dread of our unheeded cries
   And scratches at a barricaded door
   No claw can open up, dispels our nerve
   And makes us rather bear our humans' faults
   Than run away to unguessed miseries?
   Thus caution doth make house cats of us all;
   And thus the bristling hair of resolution
   Is softened up with the pale brush of thought,
   And since our choices hinge on weighty things,
   We pause upon the threshold of decision.

  Jack Kolb
  Dept. of English, UCLA