CATS! The remake

OK, I failed with the last post to reproduce all of the great cat pix that M. S. sent to me with a request to forward them to at least five people. I never honor "Forward" requests except those from Mses. M. S. & R. B., both remarkable exceptions. So, here is my insubstantial ode, with a whole lot of help from T. S. Elliot, to Ms. M. S.'s wish:

The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat:

If you offer him pheasant he would rather have grouse.

If you put him in a house he would much prefer a flat,

If you put him in a flat then he'd rather have a house.

If you set him on a mouse then he only wants a rat,

If you set him on a rat then he'd rather chase a mouse.

T. S. Elliot

Well, of all things

Can it be really?

Yes! No! Ho! Hi! Oh, my eye!

My mind may be wandering, but I confess

I believe it is Old Deuteronomy!

THE AWFUL BATTLE OF THE PEKES
AND THE POLLICLES

Of the awful battle of the pekes and the pollicles
Together with some account Of the participation of the pugs
and the poms
And the intervention of the great Rumpus Cat!!!
The pekes and the pollicles everyone knows
Are a proud and implacable passionate foes
It is always the same whereever one goes
And the Pugs and the Poms although most people say
That they did not like fighting yet once in a way
Will once and again join into the fray
And they
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark
Until you could hear them all over the park
Now on the occassion of which I shall speak
Almost nothing had happened for nearly a week
And that's a long time for a Pol or a Peke
The big police dog was away from his beat
I don't know the reason but most people think
He slipped into the Wellington's Arms for a drink
And no one at all was about on the street
When a Peke and a Pollicle happened to meet
They did not advance or exactly retreat
But they glared at each other and scraped their hind feet
And they started to
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark
Until you could hear them all over the park
And they
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark
Until you could hear them all over the park.
Now the Peke although people may say what they please
Is no british dog but Heathen Chinese
And so all the Pekes when they heard the uproar
Some came to the window, some came to the door
And together they started to grumble and wheeze
In their huffery-snuffery Heathen Chinese
But a terrible din is what Pollicles like
For your Pollicle dog is a dour Yorkshire tyke
There are dogs out of every nation
the Irish, the Welsh and the Dane:
The Russian, the Dutch, the Dalmatian,
and even from China and Spain.
The Poodle, the Pom, the Alsatian
And the Mastiff who walks on a chain.
And to those that are frisky and frolical,
Let my meaning be perfectly plain:
That my name it is simply symbolical,
and you'd better not do it again!"
And his braw Scottish cousins are snappers and biters
And every dog-jack of them notable fighters
And so they stepped out with their pipers in order
Playing "When the Blue Bonnets Come Over The Border"
And the Pugs and the Poms held no longer aloof
But some from the balcony some from the roof
Joined into the din with a
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark
Until you could hear them all over the park
Huffery snuffery huffery snuff!
Until you could hear them all over the park
BARK BARK BARK BARK (x 100)
NO!!!!
(Silence)
When these bold hereos together assembled
The traffic all stopped
And the Underground trembled
And some of the people were so much afraid
That they started to ring up the Fire Brigade!
When suddenly up from a small basement flat
Why who should stalk out but the Great Rumpus Cat!!!!
His eyes were like fireballs fearfully blazing
He gave a great yawn and his jaws were amazing
And when he looked out through the bars of the area
You never saw anything fiercer....
...Or hairier
And what with a glare of his eyes and his yawning
The Pekes and the Pollicles quickly took warning
He looked to the sky and he gave a great leap
And every last one of them scattered like sheep!
And when the Police dog returned to his beat
There wasn't a single one left on the street!
All hail and all bow to the Great Rumpus Cat!!!!

The greatest magicians have something to learn From Mister Mistoffelees' Conjuring Turn Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were a notorious couple of cats As knockabout clowns, quick - change comedians Tight - rope walkers and acrobats They had an extensive reputation, made their home in Victoria Grove That was merely their center of operation for they were incurably given to rove If the area window was found ajar and the basement looked like a field of war If a tile or two came loose on the roof which presently ceased to be waterproof If the drawers were pulled out from the bedroom chests And you couldn't find one of your winter vests Or after supper one of the girls suddenly missed her Woolworth pearls Then the family would say, "It's that horrible cat! It was Mungojerrie or Rumpelteazer!" And most of the time they left it at that Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer had an unusual gift of the gab They were highly efficient cat burglars as well and remarkably smart at a smash and grab They made their home in Victoria Grove, they had no regular occupation They were plausible fellows who liked to engage a friendly policeman in conversation When the family assembled for Sunday dinner Their minds made up that they wouldn't get thinner on Argentine joint, potatoes and greens Then the cook would appear from behind the scenes And say in a voice that was broken with sorrow "I'm afraid you must wait and have dinner tomorrow The joint has gone from the oven like that!" Then the family would say, "It's that horrible cat! It was Mungojerrie or Rumpelteazer!" And most of the time they left it at that Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer had a wonderful way of working together And some of the time you would say it was luck and some of the time you would say it was weather They'd go through the house like a hurricane and no sober person could take his oath Was it Mungojerrie or Rumpelteazer? Or could you have sworn that it might have been both? When you heard a dining room smash or up from the pantry there came a loud crash Or down from the library came a loud ping From a vase which was commonly said to be Ming Then the family would say: "Now which was which cat? It was Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer and there's nothing at all to be done about that" Bustopher Jones is not skin and bones-- In fact, he's remarkably fat. He doesn't haunt pubs--he has eight or nine clubs, For he's the St. James's Street Cat! He's the Cat we all greet as he walks down the street In his coat of fastidious black: No commonplace mousers have such well-cut trousers Or such an impreccable back. In the whole of St. James's the smartest of names is The name of this Brummell of Cats; And we're all of us proud to be nodded or bowed to By Bustopher Jones in white spats! His visits are occasional to the Senior Educational And it is against the rules For any one Cat to belong both to that And the Joint Superior Schools. For a similar reason, when game is in season He is found, not at Fox's, but Blimpy's; He is frequently seen at the gay Stage and Screen Which is famous for winkles and shrimps. In the season of venison he gives his ben'son To the Pothunter's succulent bones; And just before noon's not a moment too soon To drop in for a drink at the Drones. When he's seen in a hurry there's probably curry At the Siamese--or at the Glutton; If he looks full of gloom then he's lunched at the Tomb On cabbage, rice pudding and mutton. So, much in this way, passes Bustopher's day- At one club or another he's found. It can be no surprise that under our eyes He has grown unmistakably round. He's a twenty-five pounder, or I am a bounder, And he's putting on weight every day: But he's so well preserved because he's observed All his life a routine, so he'll say. Or, to put it in rhyme: "I shall last out my time" Is the word of this stoutest of Cats. It must and it shall be Spring in Pall Mall While Bustopher Jones wears white spats!