"Robert Killed the Cat"
"'Twas Robert killed the cat," said I
as I sliced my crisp apple pie.
The wake was going quiet well,
I thought as I rang the dinner bell.
Seating slowly a few did lament,
"A great, lazy one, equally heavensent. . ."
"Poor Bob did love that dreaded feline."
"Perhaps the lad's murderous ways were a sign
that he would be the next to fall,
suicidal in guilt and ready for death's call,"
commented the Catholic minister in haste.
I shook my head giving all a chance to taste
the meatloaf, my dear husband's favorite dish.
"Oh, poor Robert did not to Snuffle's wish,
an untimely death from my casserole,
but the cat's feast beneath the table took it's toil."
I continued," So Robert killed the cat—
See I only wished to kill the Rat;
'twas Robert's dinner etiquette delayed the deed
till yester morning when Bob choked on a muffin seed.
But I admit Bob did love poor Snuffles—
Oh excuse me, do you care for my homemade truffles?"