Talking of talking cats –
which I wasn’t;
but can do –
or should that be,
‘talking of cats’?
I know one makes more sense,
but the other is more likely
to be what I was after.
Dafter by the minute,
as somebody once did about me,
and laughter is the best medicine
(for maybe one or two Illnesses –
melancholia, and the like, perhaps).
Anyway, chaps, perhaps cats
might come into this discussion
at some point.
Do this: point at a cat;
say: ‘Look! there is a cat!’
And then start a conversation with it.
Talking Catonese, possibly.
It’s cool for cats.
Not coal, cool.
And everybody wants to cat a bee.
Literally everybody.
Graeme Sandford 
Of cats I seek to speak because once upon a time-cat, a catastrophe threatened him when asked to voice a commercial for catty cat food. Instead of singing “meow-meow-meow” he was assigned to sing “ow,ow, ow, ow”. So they released the bees and he swallowed a bee. Was more successful at that then catching a bird. Nevertheless, Santa put coal in his stocking for stalking a bird dog.
Doug, thank you for your clear and concise response to the poem formerly known as random words. I’m glad to see that you have all the wisdom of the wise and none of the shyness of the under stone dwellers. May this day just gone be the first or the thirteenth of many. Hoping that this finds you well and wellingtoned – May your falter never stumble and your bumble never bee any less than perfect. Take care writer of words and stay like a safe (safe). G:)