Mister Whisker was a pretty cat; his eyes were sharp and bright
His adoring personality brought nothing but delight
His family were unstinting, showering gifts upon their pet
And, knowing he abhorred it, didn't force him on the vet

The mother of the household would forbid her kids to feed
Mister Whisker between meal-times, but his unrelenting greed
Saw to the rule being cast aside by the entire family group
He was lavished with their fish-heads, given ice-cream by the scoop

Such treatment, though desired, isn't healthy for a cat
As the years passed, Mister Whisker became extremely round and fat
His 'meow' became a mumble, through mouthfuls of oily fish
His belly dragged along the floor as he meandered to his dish

We all miss Mister Whisker and his loud, relenting purr
We miss his little pink nose and his long and silky fur
His family should have foreseen his fate; taken action long before
But they didn't, and his gravestone says: Mister Whisker... died, age four