A little paw came to me,

I saw him, and he saw me.

Was it fate? Was it a dream?

Or just the start of his master scheme?

I brought him home—he looked around,

Wide-eyed, cautious, ears alert to every sound.

Maybe the lights were a little too bright,

Maybe the world felt too big that night.

But at least he was free—out of the cage,

No longer trapped, no longer enraged.

He and his sister curled up tight,

Two tiny spies in the dim moonlight.

I hadn’t yet decided which one to keep,

The shy little one who chose to sleep,

Or the bold little ginger kid,

Who barged in like, “Yep, this is it!”

With fearless paws, he claimed my space,

Jumped on my bed like he owned the place.

“Meow, meow,” he called so grand,

I meowed back—he did not understand.

He stared at me, his eyes so wise,

As if judging all my life’s past tries.

Then, without a care, in one swift leap,

He stole my pillow, curled up to sleep.

His sister left for a friend of mine,

But he stayed behind, making life divine.

He dashes, he pounces, he knocks things down,

He wears the cutest, most mischievous frown.

He fights the air, attacks my feet,

Chases shadows, and steals my seat.

And for some reason, his heart’s desire

to play with a paper sheets.

He’s growing fast, my tiny knight,

Still causing chaos, but it feels so right.

From wild zoomies to demanding treats,

He rules my home with tiny feet.

So here’s to Billu, my little king,

The ruler of mischief, the chaos he brings.

With paws of trouble and a heart of gold,

A tiny furball, fearless and bold.