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Poem
I struck out on my own around a year old
life was so full of fun, so many things with
which to play, a leaf scuttling by, a rustle
in the undergrowth. I was enthralled.

I stood on a road watching intently
a little mouse. A car shot past bowling
me over and slicing off half of my tail.
It stung like hell and dripped blood.

Finding a cool stream I placed my tail
within, oh the blessed relief I knew
I had been lucky, one life now done.

My next life also flashed by as
hunter became prey, I ran for
my life from a pack of hungry
wolves barely escaping their
razor sharp fangs and hot breath.

Fishing for salmon I ventured
in too deep and got swept away
tumbling through rapids, banging
into rocks lucky to be washed ashore.

Bedraggled I lie in the sun
I swallowed way more water
than I drink in two days.
Shivering as I dry off.

Maybe four is the charm
as now I am much wiser.
Oh no I followed my nose
to an enticing exciting smell.

It led me straight into a mire
churned up by rooting pigs
I was being sucked down
exhausted I finally lay still.

Well a miracle happened
the muddy slime released
its deathly grip and I was
able to slowly wriggle free.

What a state my fur was in
muddy slime all over me
only one thing to do and
that's take a hated bath.

As I rolled in the shallows
I felt a change in pressure
and ran for my life chased
by angry snapping jaws.

Piranhas I had disturbed
Nearly ripped to shreds
I slipped away to rest up.

Unfortunately as I drifted
off I started getting stung
I was under attack from
angry bees I was lying
right over their hive.

Fast as a streak I headed
yet again for the river
and dunked myself again 
and again till they were gone.

Seven lives already used up
and I was still only three years.
A few years past uneventfully
I am getting the hang of things.

One dark stormy night
sheltering in a leafy tree.
It got hit by lightning
knocking me to the ground.

Fur still burning I looked
a real fright, a cartoon cat
with hair on end whilst all
I really wanted was a quiet life.

Well I have used up eight
of my nine. I now mainly
sleep my days away. The
urge of adventure quietly rests.

My day will come soon
now as age takes its toll.
I am stiff and nearly blind
so I lay down a final time.
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