Oh, what unhappy twist of fate has brought you, homeless to my gate?
The gate where once another stood to beg for shelter, warmth and food.
For from that day I ceased to be the master of my destiny.
While he, with purr and velvet paw became within my house, The Law.
He scratched the furniture and shed and claimed the middle of my bed.
He ruled in arrogance and pride and broke the heart the day he died.
So if you really think, oh cat, I'd willingly relive all that
Because you come, forlorn and thin
Well . . . don't just stand there . . . come on in!
--Francis Witham