Back and forth from room to room.

Cabinets, corners, behind the broom.

She searched, she scanned, continued to look.

Here and there, behind every nook.

Every cranny, every crack.

Up in the front and even out back.

“Why have my pets run?” she did query.

“I am not sure,” I said, quite wary.

“Perhaps you shouldn't put mice in cage.”

“That is nonsense!" she hissed in a rage.

“Now what will I have for my suppurrr?”

Then she coughed up a big ball of fur.

I offered up a fine can of fish.

Miss Kitty said, ” No, mice is the dish!”

“A can of tuna that just won’t do.

I play with my food, before I chew!”

And so this bird decided to fly.

Before I was the next dish to try.