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I was driving down Webb road, with the thoughts I’ve had all week, And that is upon the crayfish that I net in Shady Creek, Webb road is not a long one, but it’s narrow and it winds, And scrub that’s clinging to the edge is thick and often blinds. That’s why I guess a cat is squashed upon the edging of the road, Because pedestrians don’t stand a chance with cars in travelling mode Where they fly around the corners at a speed that’s way too fast, But who cares about a flattened cat when they are driving past. When I parked me car beside the bridge, with the Shady flowing under, I thought about the lifeless cat, and how I could have made a blunder, The bait I have is mainly bone, with bits of meat to lure me prey, When knowing that the meat of cats, is loved better by a cray. I laid me nets out on the grass, while in me mind there is debate, Should I use the bones or take a drive, and grab the better bait. It will take a short ten minutes; therefore the cat will bear the load, So I’m changing gears back in me car, when driving down Webb road. With the cat upon me mind, and driving past a farmers home, The last thing that I expected was a rooster on the roam, I felt the bird go underneath, and through my mirror at the rear, All I could see was flying feathers and the Rooster on its ear. That buggered up me day alright, I’m fishing on this farmer’s place, He’ll probably mention ‘shot gun’ when I tell him face to face, So apprehensively I tapped his door and when he stood in front of me, I said “I’ve got news you will not like. Your rooster’s a fatality”. He stared at me with misty eyes; I thought he found it hard to face it, So I shrugged me shoulders and I said, “Look, allow me to replace it”. I was nervous waiting his response, and then he threw me right off track… When he shrugged and answered, “Suit yourself. The chooks are ‘round the back”.