The ginger cat is Marmalade,
Cassidy walks on three feet,
Then there is the other cat,
She's not so easy to greet.

When Cassidy is out hunting,
And Marmalade sleeps in a chair,
Who is the shadow that flits to the dish,
And when I go to pour milk isn't there?

Five inches above the foot of his bed,
When my son woke up in the night,
Which of the cats sleeps floating on air,
To give the lad such a fright?

A shadow that flits past the eye,
A purr at the edge of your sleep.
Marmalade and Cassidy are the cats that live here,
But I've more than two cats to keep.