I went to bed a little late last night and the Jabs was curled at the feet of the Boss of My Heart. Once I'd settled, Jabba got up, yawned, walked across me, and stood on my pillow waiting for me to lift the covers so she could curl in the crook of my arm.

"My Jabba," I thought fondly. There's a lot of satisfaction in a little cat rumbling like an oil furnace against me. You know. "My Jabba." then, I thought, "My Jabba, my Jabba," like a sigh, sleepy. Then, starting to come awake, My Jabba! My Jabba, My Jabba, My Jaabbaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Then, "I just pet the cat named my Jabba, and suddenly- suddenly what? and now my hand. Other hand. And now my other hand, will- what? what? never be the same. Gotta rhyme hand. Band, great! and now my other hand, will need another band-age-tahooooooo."

Two AM local I had to get up and turn on the computer, write it down. Scraps, anyway.

"You left Jabba to write a love song for her?" the Boss Of My Heart said this morning. "At two AM? You need a hobby."

"I have one," I said happily.

Diligently, I found the words to West Side Story's Maria on the web and completed my love song. With apologies to Berstein and Sondheim, copyright 1998 Paul F. Hoff, look for the CD at amazon.com or just send me money.

My Jabba

The most beautiful cat that ever purred
All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word

My Jabba
I just stroked the cat I named Jabba
And now my other hand
will need another band
age to.

My Jabba
She just hissed at Sweeter and Mandy
I picked her from the ground
She didn't try to bound
from me.

My Jabba, my Jabba, my Jabba, my Jabbaaaaaaaaaaa!

My Jabba.
Say it soft when she kneads like she's praying
Say it loud 'cause she's started her spraying.
My Jabba
I'll never stop saying my Jabba

The most beautiful purr I ever heard
My Jabba

Copyright © Paul F. Hoff
May 15, 1999