Quote for the Week from Poetry for Cats by Robert Frost's Cat

Sitting by the Fire on a Snowy Evening

Whose chair this is by now I know.

He's somewhere in the forest though;

He will not see me sitting here,

A place I'm not supposed to go.

He really is a little queer

To leave his fire's cozy cheer

And ride out by the forest lake

The coldest evening of the year.

To love the snow it takes a flake; 

The chill that makes your footpads ache,

The drifts too high to lurk or creep,

The icicles that drip and break.

His chair is comfy, soft and deep.

But I have got an urge to leap,

And mice to catch before I sleep,

And mice to catch before I sleep.