The pard dark-starred, fleet upon feet

I have, for some reason, been the recipient of a lot of cat poetry lately. It's not a surprise that people send it to me, since I am known to like both cats and poetry, but I am not sure why I am getting so much of it all in a lump.

No matter. What I am supposed to tell you is that a certain member of my household is not the least impressed with me reading the poetry by or about other cats on the internet, when he is right here looking at me now, thank you very much.

As penance, I present to you some selections from the verse of Fergus Longtail, scholar and lover of fish.

O Mommy, I purr.
I love you, Mommy! Mommy,
Where is my breakfast?

-----

You slept, then you woke, so
it is morning. Time for you
to rise. Bring cod, and trout too,
or tuna. What do you mean, "no"?

-----

Tuna ...
Fragrant breakfast.
Nibble nibble munch munch,
Satiety -- for the moment, at least.
Sweet fish.

J.R.R. Tolkien