Who said that a cat, to be a cat,
Must lap her milk from a little dish,
Be lazy and self-important,
And proud as a royal fish?
To scare the little mice with dread,
So they would never dare to roam,
Sit day and night inside their holes,
Weeping bitter tears at home.
Who said that a cat is one
Who sends the sparrow fluttering away,
And all the other little birds cry out:
What a fearsome beast! Oh, what a day!
To swipe a sausage from the kitchen,
To claw the sofa once again,
To chase a fly around with glee
And cause a glorious ruckus, then.
Yes, some cats are like that,
But our Whiskers is a little one,
Very kind and innocent,
He wouldn't hurt a mouse for fun!
He won't touch even the birds
Or tear the curtains down,
He'd probably be surprised:
"Why all this mischief in town?"
He's a well-mannered kitten:
He plays ball with a puppy friend.
He doesn't like milk, alas,
He loves meatballs and a bagel to the end.
He won't harm even a fly,
He has friends all around,
All those tales about cats
Are just rumors, I'll be bound.
Who said that a cat is surely wild,
A fierce and dangerous beast?
Give him a home, a dish, and love,
He'll be your best friend, at least!
Well, if he's a little mischievous,
It's only out of love,
He's so jealous of your work,
And misses you when you're gone.
