Whose Cat is That?

 

There once was a sailor named Humphrey,

Who had a cat that’d come free.

Adak was his name,

And roaming was his game,

It seemed he’d go missing monthly.

 

Everyone around knew that cat,

As he roamed the wharf getting fatter than fat.

If a neighbour shrieked,

Adak’s senses peaked,

“Oh thank you for killing that rat!”

 

Adak was top-drawer; he was one-of-a-kind.

If I wasn’t allergic, I wished he was mine.

But sadly one day,

When Humphrey went away,

He left poor Adak behind.

 

Now I mentioned Humphrey was a sailor,

Not a solider, tinker or tailor.

The ocean was his highway,

So never was he long to stay.

He even told his mother he wouldn’t mail her.

 

What was about to unfold?

Humprey had pulled anchor and blowed!

After a few days of roaming,

Like a pigeon, Adak went homing,

To learn his bed had got up and goed.

 

But Adak was a resilient cat,

“Homeless?” he said, “I won’t have any of that!”

So he licked his lovely locks,

And set out on the docks,

Looking for a new place to hang his hat.

 

He needed a home to call his own,

And a human so he wouldn’t be alone.

Adak couldn’t know,

Where his life was to go.

If only Humphrey hadn’t blown!

 

It didn’t take long for people to see,

That that tabby cat had no where to be.

He was fed a few scraps,

And given a scratch,

But no one offered their key. 

 

For months and months the people would ask,

"Whose that cat with the orange and white mask?"

"It’s Humphrey, I think"

Who left in a blink,

And since then the cat's had to multitask."

​

Then one day while lost in dream,

He remembered a story of sweet cold cream.

“What was that called?

Icy and balled,

And could fill your head with a laser beam?”

 

He’d learned about the treat from a retriever,

That lived aboard the SS Beaver.

"Creamy and delicious,

Though not really nutritious."

But that retriever, you couldn’t really believe her.

 

Quick to his feet, the cat went in search of,

A bowl of cold cream, with sprinkles above.

And wanting to find,

Someone who’s kind,

Maybe even a home with free love.

 

So he started to frequent the corner float home,

That served cold cream so the humans could roam.

It didn’t take long,

For him to belong,

To the ice cream man who didn’t need a comb.

 

He had found a friend in Jackson,

And a big bed to relax in.

Clever, and skilled,

A quick cat, and strong-willed.

'Cause being that sweet was taxing.

 

Now this is the end of the story,

About a cat and a little wharf history.

Whatever’s his name,

It’s all just the same,

Living the good life is mandatory!

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RIP "Humphrey/Adak" 2019