Toms Bad Day

[I really must learn to read the contest’s rules before writing the damned poem... What follows is not twelve lines!] It was a good morning until My face was shoved under the grill With only six lives left within me This charcoaled cat shot up the chimney I fell from the roof and went splat A whopping great weight squashed me flat But that isn't all, there’s a hole in the wall That’s roughly the shape of a cat I’m silent and so I can’t wail I’ve got a rope tied to my tail At least that dog wont hear me holler The other end’s tied to his collar Out, through the hole in the house A tyrant the shape of a mouse He struts right by showing no fear And chomps on that sleeping dog’s ear I’m running like mad... on the spot I think maybe I’ve had me lot The rope snaps and I make a dash And crash into mountains of trash I’m stuck here with bins for my bed And a fish skeleton on my head It was a good morning until Jerry went in for the kill