Schrodinger’s Tuesday

My cat has tenure. Everybody knows.
I pay the rent. He sleeps without a care.
She likes me too, which means, as logic goes,
I ought to stay. Or leave. Both seem quite fair.

She might miss me. An untoward event
for which I'm somehow liable in advance.
I like her, meaning I'm provisionally content
to watch the evidence perform its dance.

The box stays shut. Both states persist.
By Wednesday, there may be a fresh caveat.
I'm not petitioning to be kept or missed.
No such proceedings trouble the cat.

F.S.F.