Other cats can climb trees,
And stand high on branch catching the breeze,
But I make the wind rush,
So fast that the ground I barely brush,
Camouflaged in black spots,
I hide in the bush far from their shots,
I can’t roar but I growl,
I chirp, I stutter, I purr and yowl,
Then I run like a train,
And back to my home; safety again.