Gratitude

I found a starving cat in the street: It cried for food and a place by the fire. I carried it home, and I strove to meet The claims of its desire. And since its desire was a little fish, A little hay and a little milk, I gave it cream in a silver dish And a basket lined with silk. And when we came to the grateful pause When it should have fawned on the hand that fed, It turned to a devil all teeth and claws, Scratched me and bit me and fled. To pay for the fish and the milk and the hay With a purr had been an easy task: But its hate and my blood were required to pay For the gifts that it did not ask.