You couldn’t find a weirder cat, just laying there flat on his back,
All legs asplay and looking cute, a little mow thrown in to boot.

But cuteness isn’t why I write; its weirdness causes me this plight
Because he sat down on the floor, you know, the mat right near the door,
And looked at me and gave a grin, and then let out an awful din.

It wasn’t mow like all cats do, I tell you now it was a moo.
Yes like a cow that’s what he did, I tell no lie, I wouldn’t fib,
He looked at me with that wry smile and mood then sat and stared a while.

Well what am I supposed to do, I’ve got a cat that gives a moo,
So now I wait for what’s in store, a bark a yelp a lions roar,
In all my days I’ll tell you that, I’ve never known a weirder cat.

Clemo