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Sweet pussycat, pussycat, I love you —
you're so entertaining in all you that you do.
You came as a kitten, a ball of striped fluff;
I laughed at your antics when acting so tough —
a wannabe tiger, a sharp-clawed young cat,
bringing me treasure: a half-chewed, slow rat.
Though you puke on the floor and the sofa you scratch,
I'm bonded to you in a heartfelt close match,
and even bad habits cannot turn my heart
for I've loved you so fondly right from the start.
I cuddle and stroke you, you purr at my touch;
it's easy to see why I love you so much.
My darling companion, my joy and delight,
sun-seeker by day and bed-sharer by night.
When old age arrives with stiff, arthritic paws,
sad senile decline, and toothless sore jaws,
pussycat, pussycat, I'll still love you —
all through the years my love will stay true.
You saved me from sadness, a life lived alone.
Yours is the dearest of loves I have known.
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