Cats. Poem by fanniesson -

They don't care, like
two spouses towards one another
in a thirty-year loveless marriage, that
stood together for the children's sake.

They don't care,
if you pet them or not
(the latter being their choice.)

They don't care if you talk to them,
sit by them, feed, and clean up after them.
They just don't care.

They're where they are, cause.
Once they were this ball of fur, and.
You could hold them in the palm of your hand,
the way God could you if He so chose to do so.