One day when my son Terry Was only just eighteen,
A Russian Blue adopted our place, Seemed to have decided to belong.
He was sleek and docile,
But obviously a stray.
We advertised, but no-one claimed him, And so we let him stay.
The vet told us he was worth About four hundred bucks, But we got him for nothing. We really were in luck.
My son called him “Jack Daniels” After his favourite snort.
“Jack Daniels” was a mouthful, So we called him “Jack” for short.
Jack had hair of metal blue,
The finest hair you’ve seen.
He was big and sleek and handsome, With eyes of emerald green.
I’m more a doggie person
And don’t take to a cat,
But Jack behaved more like a dog, The way he walked and sat.
He really cared for Terry,
Greeted him when he came home. Like a dog he’d trail him down the street. Apart from that he didn’t roam.
He never sat upon his lap
The way cats tend to do.
He’d squat upon his feet instead, Like a dog, and lick them, too. Jack Daniels stayed for several years, Slept at the foot of Terry’s bed, But when Terry grew and moved, Jack moved somewhere else instead.