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Timothy shivered as the evening cooled,
he pulled tighter on his little coat.
Suddenly, right in front of him stood
his arch enemy - the Stoat.

The Stoat circled Timothy,who, shivering on the ground,
tried playing 'dead' on his back.
"Nice try,"said the Stoat, "that won't work with me,
you'll make me a nice little snack."

In an instant the light suddenly turned black,
Tim stood there, waiting for the blow.
When he opened his eyes he saw the Stoat,
being beaten back by the Crow.

The Crow told the Stoat all that Tim had said,
and the dire warning for all.
"You're better off coming with us,"he said,
we're going to give Owl a call."

The three set off at a jaunty pace,
to where Crow had last seen the Owl.
But, as they rounded a bush,the farm Cat was waiting,
with sharp claws, sharp teeth, and a scowl.

"You wait for a meal, then three come along."
Said the Cat with obvious glee.
"Now, which to eat first, mouse, stoat or crow?
Fur or feather? Now let me see."

"How will you survive on the meals at the farm?"
The Crow then blurted out.
"If I relied on them I'd starve to death!"
Said the Cat as he wheeled about.

"But I've plenty of food right here in this field,
mice, stoats and, ahem, the odd bird."
"But what if they weren't here?" Said the Crow,
"That's preposterous," said Cat, "quite absurd."

They told of their quest to the deep, dark wood,
and the meeting with wise old Owl.
"If what you say is true," said Cat, 
"I'd better come too," with a scowl.

"We can't hang around for you." Said the Cat,
to Tim, who found it hard to keep pace.
"Climb on my back and hang on tight."
And they set off as if in a race.

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