Dihunodd Dewi Sant â chefn tost arno. Ceisiodd symud o gwmpas ei sied, ond oedd popeth yn wneud dolur iddo.
Daeth y cathod i “helpu”.
– Ffisiotherapwyr dych chi? gofynnodd Dewi Sant.
– Wel, nac ydyn, ond we ni’n meddwl y byddai’n bach o hwyl i drio, meddai Daf, heb unrhyw sensitifrwydd.
– Shwt ddechreuodd y broblem? Gest ti dy anafu rhywsut? gofynnodd Jeff, yn wneud nodiadau.
Edrychodd Dewi Sant ar Santes Dwynwen yn nerfus.
– Er… sai’mod.
– Gorwedd fan hyn, meddai Daf.
Am sawl munud, roedd disgrechain ofnadwy o boen i’w glywed yn dod allan o’r sied. Yn sydyn, bu tawelwch.
– Well i ni fynd, awgrymodd Daf.
– Byddai, cytunodd Jeff.
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Saesneg / English
Saint David’s Bad Back
Saint David awoke with a bad back. He attempted to move around his shed, but everything caused him pain.
The cats came to “help”.
– Are you physiotherapists? asked Saint David.
– Well, no, but we were thinking it would be fun to try, said Dave, without any sensitivity.
– How did the problem start? Did you get injured somehow? asked Jeff the cat, making notes.
Saint David looked nervously at Saint Dwynwen.
– Er… dunno.
– Lie down here, said Dave.
For several minutes, terrible screams of pain were to be heard coming out of the shed. Suddenly, there was quiet.
– We had better go, suggested Dave.
– Yes, agreed Jeff.
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