My Gerbil Percy (a name is ever there was one) loves to whistle tunes, you'll catch him on a Friday night whilst whistly at the moon.
But that's not all you see he puts on quite a show, he's no one trick pony no, he's more feathers to his bow. He spins plates with spaghetti and twirls amongst confetti, a real sight or so I am told. A hearty soul my Percy Pal I'm so glad to have known.
He whistler in the morning, he whistle while still asleep, he'd rather whistle in the dark than be blindly counting sheep. He's worst while reaching high-shelves he hasn't got the legs. He'd be worthwhile as a gas man and goes perfect with scotch eggs.
But his favourite tune of all to date is God Save our very Queen, the national anthem back from home, oh what a trip it's been. Yes Percy love the queen and her golden crown, she invite him down to Buckingham, just to show him round.
The Queen was greapfruit just to gnatty and talk of his long tail. He insisted on a show which he later could regale. She fancied he practised first and sent him to the royal shower. There he whistle louder than ever and drowned out the next door choir.
When he finish all sparkly clean his voice all limbered up, he got into his best rat suit with a button off the cuff.
Percy snuck into the kitchen and smuggled a fair few plates. A corgi catch him in plain sight and ate him with the cake. Where is that mouse wonder the queen he's longer than I thought, never mind my doggie's back to take me for a walk.