With purpose in each padded paw, This cat strolls forth without a
flaw. A ginger coat, a steady gaze, Owning cobblestones like a stage.

Eyes that pierce with amber light, Ears alert, whiskers tight. A
little king on city ground, In every step, a silent sound.

The busy world fades in the blur, But he walks calm, his thoughts a
purr. For this is his, this path, this street, Where paws and cobbles
boldly meet.

So watch him stride, this feline fine, A dash of autumn, sleek design.
He needs no map, no guide, no beat— For he’s the cat who owns the
street.