Dit versje vond ik in een klein antiekwinkeltje in Rye, in het Zuiden van Engeland. Het is een ode aan de zwerfkatjes die komen aanlopen en een plaats in ons hart stelen.

The Stray

Monday he said that a crumb would do,
Tuesday he asked me to make it two,
Wednesday he said he’d prefer to have fish
And not on paper – he’d rather a dish!
An Thursday he said it was cold out there,
So what about letting him sleep on a chair.
By Friday he’d made it perfectly clear
That lucky old me was going to live HERE.
On Saterday night he took half my bed
And woke me up early to get himself fed.
Today we’ll share chicken because it’s Sunday
I wonder what he’d like for Monday.