The little cat had lost his house, His silver dish, his clockwork mouse. He walked where crooked branches spread Like hungry fingers overhead. A mountain moved between the trees And brought the forest to its knees. Two golden eyes began to glow. “Well, little thing—which way d’you go?” “Away,” he said. “I cannot stay. There’s nothing left for me that way.” The big cat gave his tail a swing. “Then walk with me, you little thing.” Big cat, big cat, tooth and claw, Who put kindness in your paw? “Teeth are teeth,” the big cat purred. “Must I bite to keep my word?” An owl put on his judging hat. “A cat,” he said, “cannot keep Cat! The great eat small. The small meet fate. It’s written on the woodland gate.” “Then fetch the gate,” the big cat said. “We’ll read it when we’ve gone to bed.” “But rules are rules!” the owl replied. “Then let them sleep somewhere outside.” The fox came dressed in Sunday red. “You’re saving him for soup,” he said. “A clever trick! A walking snack!” The big cat turned. The fox stepped back. Big cat, big cat, tooth and claw, Who put kindness in your paw? “Teeth are teeth,” the big cat purred. “Must I bite to keep my word?” By dusk the little cat grew cold; The moon came out, a button gold. The big cat made a furry nest And tucked the stray against his chest. “Why keep me?” asked the little stray. “I’ve nothing much with which to pay.” “Then keep your nothing. Rest your head. I charge no rent,” the big cat said. “The woods all say I ought to flee.” “The woods say much,” said Big. “Have tea.” He poured the moonlight, pale and sweet, In acorn cups beside his feet. Big cat, big cat, tooth and claw, Who put kindness in your paw? “Teeth are teeth,” the big cat purred. “Must I bite to keep my word?” The owl stayed up to prove them wrong. The fox rehearsed his funeral song. The small cat slept till morning light. The monster kept him warm all night.