Ode to Mama’s Little Fatty
I have a very fat cat.
Yes, my cat is exceedingly fat!
He eats everyday
in a gluttonous way,
but I can’t really fault him for that…
My fat cat is exceedingly cute,
and he has huge whiskers, to boot.
And with tiny toes,
and a miniature nose-
yes, I really think he’s a hoot!
My fat cat cannot curl up.
There’s just no room for his butt.
But he grabs with his claws,
and he heaves with his paws,
and curls around his fat gut.
My fat cat is exceedingly prissy.
He refuses to ever get messy.
He walks with great care,
with his nose in the air,
and my boyfriend thinks he’s a sissy.
Yes, my fat cat is gentle and mild.
Like Buddha, he never gets wild.
He runs for a bit,
and then he must sit,
and then there’s that little half-smile…
My fat cat has delicate paws.
He never plays with his claws.
When he attacks
he plays “pitty-pat”,
and he never attacks without cause.
My fat cat really likes string,
but milk tops are more his thing.
When they’re tossed in the couch
he will get in a crouch,
and dig till he pulls out the ring.
I got my fat cat a sweater
in hopes that he would look better.
But his belly hung out
as he waddled about,
and he looked like a cow in fetters.
Now that I’ve been so chatty
about my dear little fatty,
won’t you drop a line?
(You don’t have to rhyme)
so I won’t be the only one batty!
Romana
