Roedd Daf y gath yn yr ardd, yn eistedd ger y sied lle’r oedd Dewi Sant nawr yn byw. Daeth llais Dewi Sant o gymyl o fwg.
– Byddai’n well ‘da ti ddysgu shwt i gyfri, ‘ngath annwyl i.
– Pam yn y byd fyddwn i isie neud hwnna? gofynnodd Dave, yn anargyhoeddedig.
– Mae’n lot o hwyl yn y Gymraeg. ‘Drycha.
Pwyntiodd Dewi Sant ar fwrdd wen lle’r oedd e wedi ysgrifennu pob math o lol.
– Go iawn? meddai Daf.
– Bant â ni, atebodd Dewi Sant.
Yn fuan, gallai Daf gael ei glywed yn ymarfer. Cynulliodd y madarch mewn diddordeb.
– Pymtheg, un ar bymtheg, dau ar bymtheg, deunaw! meddai Daf, a derbyn rownd o gymeradwyaeth gan y madarch.
– Pymtheg ar bymtheg ar chwech, hanner cant ar ddeunaw ar un ar ddeg, drigain ar gant ar bymtheg, BINGO, meddai Daf, cyn cwympo i lawr mewn gorflinder.
Peneliniodd Jeff y gath yn Daf.
– Gwranda, sdim ond un peth werth ei gyfri – sef bwyd – a dim ond tri nifer sy’ angen: powlen llawn, bron digon, a “ble mae’r staff?”
Ochneidiodd Daf mewn ryddhad.
– Ti’n iawn.
– Fi’n gwbod.
Edrychodd Dewi Sant ar ei wydraid wisgi, a oedd yn wag.
– Ble mae’r staff? meddai.
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Saesneg / English
Dave attempts to learn to count
Dave the cat was in the garden, sitting by the shed where St David now lived. St David’s voice came from a cloud of smoke.
– You’d better learn to count, my dear cat.
– Why in the world would I want to do that? asked Dave, unconvinced.
– It’s a lot of fun in Welsh. Look.
St David pointed at a whiteboard where he had written all kinds of nonsense.
– Really? said Daf.
– Off we go, St David answered.
Soon, Dave could be heard practicing. The mushrooms assembled in interest.
– Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen! said Daf, and received a round of applause from the mushrooms.
– Fifteen on fifteen on six, fifty on eighteen on eleven, sixty on a hundred on fifteen, BINGO, said Dave, before collapsing in exhaustion.
Jeff the cat elbowed Dave.
– Listen, there is only one thing worth counting – food – and only three numbers are needed: a full bowl, nearly enough, and “where’s the staff?”
Dave sighed in relief.
– You’re right.
– I know.
St David looked at his empty glass of whiskey.
– Where’s the staff? he said.
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