"The Tom-Cat's Tale"
Where th' pussy cat preens, and pats her fur,
Or, from some high fence-top cusses a cur,
When darkness falls, I'm a yowlin' to her-
Fer I'm a tough an' ornery brute,
But I reckon I'll die with my head in a boot.
In a garbage ca I c'n find a meal
That's high in smell, and high in appeal,
An' I'll catch me a rat if he dares to squeal-
Fer I'm a tough an' ornery brute,
But I reckon I'll die with my head in a boot.
From an outpost high, with a watchful eye,
I wait in a manner relaxed, but sly,
Fer a careless hound t' mosey by,
Fer I'm a tough an' ornery brute,
But I reckon I'll die with my head in a boot.
He lived his carefree, swagg'rin life,
An' lingered not with a lovin' wife,
'Til th' City Pound put an end to th' strife.
Fer he WUZ a tough an' ornery brute;
And as predicted, he died with his head in a boot.
~Louis Jonas
