CAT HOTEL (IN THE MORNING)

I’m cleaning cat-boxes alone
While ev’ryone else is still sleeping,
And I mutter words while I sift the turds,
Such Fun! Feline house-kee-eep-ing!.

And they howl at me,
Yes, they yowl at me,
And tell me it’s time they were fed.
Tho I love my job
With this furry mob,
I’d like to…go back to…bed!

I skritch some of them ‘neath their chins,
And give tummy-rubs if they’ll let me,
Oh, blissful purr as I brush their fur.
Occasional nips don’t upse-et me.

So I scoop the poop
Till my eyelids droop,
And deal with some clown on the phone.
(Spoken: “Is this the cathouse? Har-har-har!” *click!*)
What’s that sound I hear?
Ahhh, just as I fear,
A hairball. I should have known!

The tabby up front needs his meds.
(Giving insulin is quite easy.)
It’s pilling cats I dread; Whoops! Ms. Claws has fled!
My shirt’s all torn and bree-ee-zy!

Let her growl and spit
Till she’s over it.
By the time she thinks that she’s won
I’ll be in the clear;
The day shift is here!
For me that’s…just too much…fun!