Small in stature but loud in noise, he walks with The White Cat.
Up the Green Lane he walks. With The Dog, Rosie, with The White Cat he walks.
Side by side, brave in the world, seeking adventure, the small cat walks.
And he is mottled and dappled like the wild Clouded Leopard.
And The White Cat finds dirt, dug up by the badgers.
And the small cat finds a shoulder to ride on.
And The White Cat watches from the top of the hill.
And the Golden Dog runs in circles, fast-fast.
And the wind blows and Zephyr, the small cat prefers the shelter of the Green Lane, but not the mud in the farmyard.
Then home, past old Mr Griffith’s house, where a dog howls a small song as we pass, and back to the warmth, by the fire.
Enough adventure for one day. Tired now, the small cat sleeps.