Oh dear God, another case!

I raise my palm to my face.

Why, oh why, can’t we contain

This oh so sneaky UK strain?

‘Will 5 days become a month, a year?’

I whisper to myself in fear.

‘Quit your moaning!’ Meows the cat.

‘Come hither slave! Give me a pat.’

And as I stroke her belly fluff.

I realise I no longer give a stuff.