UE

You leave a four-pawed trail,Your fur is white as snow,Guess you don't have a tail – Bears don't, far as I know. For bears at the North Pole Sport is a common goal,While South-Pole bears appearQuite unprepared to hear. You are my only bear,Complete with monogram,

excerpt XVI. THE END The blizzard howled, tumbling boulders of petty snow, gasping when hitting icy walls and cliffs or moaning and screaming along the white nowhere. You couldn't tell the sky from the earth or the ice from the water. Nature was unleashed and that

excerpt NERO The piano Alfred had found was not brand new but it was, without the shadow of a doubt, the right one for Spartacus the tomcat's room. The one-eyed cat could only be grateful for such a find. He had now recovered his senses and was giving performances

Have today you have seen Tatters,with his eyes glossy as platters?He's a shabby little thingfor a dog – a raggy kingpatched together, as it seems,stuttering-bursting at the seams – with his rags to swirl about'cross his eyes and pugly snout,and a matty coat,

excerptsSUKI – CLOSE ENCOUNTER OF THE THIRD KINDLook! There is a cat over there! Get it! Quickly! the little girl shouted. She was short and plump and she had freckles. She had just fallen while roller skating and damaged her knees, otherwise it would have been her running

Before I proceed any further, I shouldParenthetic'ly pause in my taleFor writing a chapter (also called interlude)Whose hero – though part of the plot –I am glad to inform is notA stray cat (either male or female).  There's no epithet apt to explainThe cat

excerpt I asked my neighbour to lend me his tomcat one more time. When he's at his wits' end a man will try anything. Come on then, let's give the tomcat another try. Maybe he'll have learned his lesson by now, especially since the neighbour was determined

excerpts 1The circus tent at Mosh-Mosh fairWas where – tucked in his frigidair –A penguin dwelt without a care. From Labrador he'd landed there.  His name? Apolodor, Esquire. Profession? Singer in the choir. He was no conjurer, therefore,Nor did he walk the tight

Sandy, listen to your mammy! One spring, a very tired quail – tired since she was coming from far, far away, from Africa – alighted on a plain of green wheat, close to a stand of saplings. After she rested for a few days, she started to gather twigs, dried leaves, straws

Beginning of autumn. Full moon. Distant hills. All the stars are bigger. An orchestra of mosquitoes in the background.  A mosquito: - I can't take it anymore! My proboscis is freezing! A spider: (Huddled in the dew, Shivering and bearing his cross): - Not even a fly

 Why have you caught me in my flight,Beautiful child? Oh, don't you knowI'm feeble and it hurts me so?Why do you squeeze my frame so tight? I am myself a child, like you,And just like you, I like to play. Have pity on my life this day,For I'm so frightened,

An ant was walking hard and fastAnd raising plumes of densest dustAs it trampled with its feetLike a sergeant on his beat.  Where d'you think you're rushing, brute,Who's chasing you in hot pursuit?You're wreaking havoc in your rage,Disgraceful ants,