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The Chase

I’m sure I’m on the verge of death
My heart is racing,out of breath
My head is spinning, vision foggy
I've been trying to catch our moggie
The little bastard ran away
She knows that it’s the vets today

She needs a needle, worming pill
But catching her is going to kill
She ran upstairs I chased her there
Where she dived behind a chair
I went to grab her banged my head
Then cracked my shin against the bed

Down she ran into the cellar
Pursued by me poor hapless fella
Behind my wine rack then she hid
Oh I do regret what next I did
Grabbing wildly at her fur
I didn't see the danger there

Knocked rack over with a crash
Sixty bottles for being rash
Then slipped upon the soaking floor
As the little sod ran out the door
Landing on the broken glass
I lacerated my poor ass

You great dumb brute this Missus said
And slapped me hard around the head
Come here Tiddles sweety poo
What’s that bad man done to you?
Up she jumped upon the missus’s knee
Purring preening happily
I swear one day before I die
I’ll make that cat into a pie!


Written by blocat
Published
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