Mae Daf y gath yn meindio ei busnes ei hunan, pan mae Santes Dwynwen yn ymddangos. Mae hi’n poeni. Mae hi’n poeni’n arw.
– Meddyg wyt ti? meddai Santes Dwynwen.
Mae Daf yn meddwl am eiliad. Mae hi’n rhy ddiog i chwarae o gwmpas heddiw.
– Nadw. Cath dw i.
– Ond mae Dewi Sant yn marw. Mae e wedi yfed gormod unwaith eto.
– Cath dw i. Dw i’n medru bwyta, cysgu, a llyfu pethau. Felly os yw Dewi Sant yn marw, bydda i’n hapus i esgus bod yn feddyg a’i fwyta e, neu’i lyfu e.
– Dwyt ti ddim yn ddoniol, ti ‘mod.
– Does dim ots gyda fi, meddai Daf, a mynd yn ôl i gysgu.
Saesneg / English
Doctor Dave
Dave the cat is minding her own business, when Saint Dwynwen appears. She is worried. She is very worried.
– Are you a doctor? says Saint Dwynwen.
Dave thinks for a moment. She is too lazy to play around today.
– No. I’m a cat.
– But Saint David is dying. He has drunk too much again.
– I’m a cat. I can eat, sleep, and lick things. So if Saint David is dying, I’ll be happy to pretend to be a doctor and eat him, or lick him.
– You’re not funny, y’know.
– I don’t care, says Dave, and goes back to sleep.
