Farewell Paddles, you short lived cat,
Only grumpy Gareth takes much joy in that;
Not for Morgan a moments diplomatic pause,
No, out comes his dogma, out come the claws.
No thought of how those words stung.
When Gareth’s time on this mortal coil ends
And up towards Heaven he (hopefully) ascends,
Will he see Paddles lounging atop the Pearly Gates?
How to explain to St Pete cats are one of his pet hates?
Say, Gareth, cat got your tongue?