THE CAT WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD

THE CAT WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD

I'm glad I'm a tabby, says Jenny the cat,                                                                                                                      

White paws and shirt front, perhaps a bit fat.                                                                                                                                

Black and white is alright, like my sister and brother.                                                                                           

I took after dad, they looked like our mother.

Born in a tea chest with rain leaking in,                                                                                                                        

Huddled together with odd scraps from a tin.                                                                                                             

I had a poor start, life wasn't easy,                                                                                            

Living around dustbins, all pretty sleazy.

Then I caught a chill and wasn't too well.                                                                                                             

I lay around shivering and finally fell,                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

Into a corner, curled up by the door.                                                                                                           

And there I was found in a heap on the floor.

I was put in a box and began to feel warm,                                                                                                      

Though I was frightened, I tried to stay calm.                                                                                                                   

My head was stroked gently and wrapped in a rug.                                                                                                                                   

For the first time in my life, at least I was snug.

I've never looked back since that time long ago,                                                                                                      

Fifteen years have gone by and I've come to know,                                                                                                                    

That life can be good for a poor little stray.                                                                                                                       

Just to be sure that you fall at the right doorway.

JMS