Allusions of grandeur

Well, my entry for the latest Speckled Potato poetry competition (write a poem from a cranky pet to its owner) wasn't accepted, so now it is free! Free! Gloriously free! Here it is now, and, as they say in the classics: don't worry, this will all be over in a moment.

Frae a mouse

Gigantic honking human bastard

In whose perfumes the room is blasted,

Your southern winds for years have lasted - 

Cutting cheeses? 

Would it were so, I'd have breakfasted

On your breezes. 

Your odours are beyond proportion - 

Is this some form of pet extortion? -

Think of my snout and its small portion

Ere you let fly - 

Pray, Sir, to exercise more caution, 

Or I die! 

(Original Robert Burns poem for contrast).